DESTINY AND FAITH ENTWINED
And what shall I do about any
of that? Cry on again? How did
I get stuck in such a miserable
suit, I want to know? Who was
this tailor, who fitted me so
poorly, who stitched in error
all these lousy alterations? I
stood still before the mirror,
though the mirror kept me
moving around while the man
with the chalk was just slashing
at will - marks here, and other
marks there. My best approach,
I figured then, was silence? Oh
but only now, I want to scream!
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