Scent of ominous scenes pervade the air
but I take no steps to try to prevent.
I hear the chaos reigning in the fair
where peals of laughter veil the need to vent.
I see no truth in those big wisely eyes
yet I am told to believe what they speak.
I swallow my pride with platter of lies
then think why the taste is not what I seek.
How could I now wish for a soulful touch
for the seeds sowed will show their own colour.
And though my sixth sense had warned me as much,
my vision is blurred - the picture is clear.
While I have ignored the imprints of fate.
All I do is hopelessly hope and wait.
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