I sit like a child
Building word-blocks
And pile them up high -
A nose-scraper, no less;
But the tower in the myth is doomed to fall.
I sit like a child
Playing word-trains;
On twisted tracks
the wheels come loose;
But the journey in the tale will never end.
Ananta Madhavan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/toys-19/
