51.       THE CELL

This little clone
Behind the clown
Masters his gown
With a frown
As he do down town.

This little cell’s sub-editing
Send me dead mail
Inscribed with a nail
As I sail in a submarine
Through the living hell.

But now I walk in the light
I follow the Creator’s love
And love His creation.
Therefore do I also love the cell,
This little clone
As I whish they can find
Their own identity
In my problems.