- white, light, right, night
- be, see, free, tree
- moon, tune, soon, noon
- weigh, day, lay, stay
I have been a Samurai by heart,
during the night.
And a humble nothing by sort,
during the light.
I used to be made brown by the white;
for I belonged to mahogany.
I took a left;
for I was hunted by the right.
I wished something than longed;
little done by the wronged.
I craved to be something like a tree;
nothing that could bound the will of free.
I stepped by the cave of see;
to know what I was meant to be.
I was dawned by the tint of the moon;
primed by the hue of the noon.
Wish I could sing my tune;
in search of the quill I would then go soon.
Only I knew what the pretext meant,
mourned by the sow of blunt.
For what I thought was by day;
was bowed down by the neigh of weigh.
I assumed the punch of gravity was to lay;
the surface of pretext which was to stay.
Little to the grumbling face;
I joined the crunching race.
This poem has been submitted as an entry to