I never could see
The gist of this poesy
It was first opaque
It remained a mystery
Until it became a game

If I could go back
And talk to my teacher then
I’d summon beauty
Then suggest we play a while
And if he said no I’d leave

Shaking dust from feet
Feeling wind upon my face
Exultation time
It comes to an end anon
Best to know you were alive