Drops of water for those in drought
And drops of blood of those who fought
Both powerful to put one into thought
Of doing a thing one was never taught
To throw away what one has brought
To finish a sentence, not with a dot
To let what is still alive rot
And to never worry about getting caught
Harsh is the world, yet do not be gnawed
Tempting it is to wilfully miss a blindspot
But may we always give ourselves another shot
For a mendable pit in the heart does not make us a fraud
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