Quod - Poem by Oke Christopher
Sometimes a wolf, sometimes a panther
Sometimes a clown, sometimes a man sobriety is after
And a philosopher, and a youth with a broken mind
And a strong man, and a weakling of some kind
Will he not doubt his master, will he not always believe in God?
Will he not be the perfect bastard, will he not be the child that hears the rod?
Who is he that burns up and is replenished?
Who is he that suffers quietly and is not perished?
The leaf thrown by sea waves,
But one standing strong at some craggy caves.
Is this man a precious tool?
Or one to be held up as a crucifixion fool?
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