The lady dressed in blue commented
That I have grown so old
And that I should be tormented
By the mirror that I hold
I look in it your own reflection
A continuous reviving stream
Your countless bodies in endless procession
I’m still alive if I still dream
The lady claims I have no style
When I tend to take the side
Of those who lose not those who smile
Set apart by her divide
She said “this is nature – no room for
correction
Prophets and utopias end up in a mess
Trying to make it better is a foolish
obsession
We all want the same; some get more, some
get less”
The lady dressed in blue would strive
To reallocate the sunshine
She says,
the fittest must survive
Did she mistake blood for wine?
But I still dream of a new resurrection
The day without a predator or prey
When the sun will rise and without
selection
For every one will reserve a ray
M
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