chains (6)

The first time I remember
Us ever stopping here,
It was day nothing like this:
'Twas warm, and bright, and clear,

And the whole place was buzzing with
Such pure activity
As was a kind of marvel to
A tiny kid like me.

For when you see things being cooked,
And served, cut up, and eaten --
See syrup poured from bottles,
Coffee creamered, stirred, and sweetened --

It makes you feel some kind of way.
A different kind of health:
To see the world -- your place in it --
And know you have

A self

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Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

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