I don’t remember seeing stacks of folders and papers The table is mostly neat and done The fate and future of mostly verbose blather Are promptly sent back then on to the next one
What was she disguising Whatever discussion Of trying to corner The energy of a downtrodden Hope on a rope
In the exchange Entertaining but dishonest She was patient to get to the core But he was an onion Peel many layers Skin the pungency And nothing more
The maestra Her power lies not in the ability to create or ruin An aspirant in their youth And insecure position
Sometimes the verve need not be harnessed Just a channel where it can flow
And that ability To instill confidence When blanketed with feigned adversity And looming uncertainty Is the difference Between those who stayed stuck And those who kept on
danDAman 