De die in diem,
as I waited,
while I fasted,
I forgo all the bogus laid on my clones.
Quid pro quo,
I became that bigot,
all these while, still the mask of patience I got.
At once I was jerked off,
from my waist through my fermur,
then a little part of my fibula,
a rationale of patience.
Who told you a fib,
that the patient dog eat the fattest bone?
I grew up with my clones,
so identical, no differences,
if they divorce, they leave no mark of remorse.