Through the mist and dust and The dead leaves. A path that Carved itself out of the forest Aspiring to become a road- With re-enforced cement or An asphalt overlay hoping to Reach a distance city. Now it chokes in a tiny room. And the timber of the pine, That wanted to be reams and Reams of paper be part of One of Murakami's novel Now sits on some professor's Desk hosting a research paper Claiming- how refusal to watch Black people porn- Is an obvious measure of The racism in your veins. One of those dinosaurs, Must have dreamt of becoming A red giant maybe. Then it Ate dust on that fateful day- And now it's a fried chicken On my plate. One of those primates that Aspired to be an alpha to Rip those bullies and to have New damsels daily as trophies- Somehow ended up as my Father and his sperm that Won must have had hoped To be a cool brat at least. But no, he had to be a poet, Philosopher and a loser.