From their poverty they rose

From their poverty they rose,
To learn the calligraphy,
The gamma and the beta,
From the hovels and dry burrows
And left their want behind.

The callous hands softened
In the knowledge of
Coiffured plaits
In the vapid haze
Of sequins embedded in the
Curlicues of attainment.

They flitted from their tedious
Lives to enlightenment,
Knowing nothing to understanding nothing,
As they crowded in their cacophony.

From their poverty they rose
To teach the slow-witted
The vacuous rituals of comprehension.
Of the hovels and dry burrows.

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