SOURCE
Ha, sad to imagine the demise
Of my literary existence.
Scary to imagine the fate
Of my academic garden of Eden.
The tree of knowledge that stood me out;
Appetising fruits sacked in shelves
I move in, to peep and take a bite daily
From my sumptuous table of belles-lettres
Then I wonder about my offspring's choice
Destinies dressed in academic delicacies
What of non-academic delicacies?
From offspring who share different aspirations?
I am perturbed asa civilised but sinful Adam
As I inquire from Solomon, my grand child
Natural fruits and Adamic delicacies
I could not help but wonder aloud:
Could all of these be called vanity?
very nice...