Meaning
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Andrew Tan, Grade 12
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Poetry
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2017
Make do, make haste
here we lie, papers our cribs
amongst scattered pens, utensils
shredded stickers and stars
A system that shares, thats softens
instead endows a bitter taste
when material pleasures
fails to measure our plaintive cries
To listen, to scribe
a weary child stares
lost, away in distant resonances
curbed by our torpid carousing
time has lost meaning
but gained all too much,
as all the grains have
fallen to the bottom of the glass