They made sure
I got used to know
what they said was right.
I went that way too,
like any other.
Became a skillful
but intelligent innocent.
I was fed,
with what they considered as facts.
Rarely did I notice the gaps,
where no one knew anything.
But suddenly I stood there myself,
not knowing anything of value.
At first I thought
it was up to me
a congenital deficiency in my equipments.
I veiled and covered,
always had something to say,
even when I did not know anything.
Last night a large branch broke
on the old pear tree.
The core turned out
to be crushed by ants.
Göran Stille 7 august 2020

This is a beautiful and VERY well-crafted poem. Thank you. Dr. Bob
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Thank you, Dr Bob, I very much appreciate you comment
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