I remember a teacher telling me
that excellence of character was
well in reach were it not for a
lack of serious purpose.
Ah, yes, I remember it well indeed,
and the purpose still eludes me,
as does the serious quality as well.
But the lacks, oh, I found the lacks,
they were deep and sundrous, alive
with sonar soundings under an azure
blue with hymnous whispers lurking
on surfaces of cloudy mists in hue.
Opaque they were, yet transparentish
and profound in meaning too.
Lacks I said? Mea culpa, spelling bees
were never my cuppa, I meant lakes,
of course.
A lake of serious purpose.
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