One teacher says, the sun is a planet.Another declares, the sun is a god.I stare at the exam paper,and wonder—do you want the truth,or the answer that pleases you? You tell me, both are right.You teach me to live in contradictions,to bow
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I am insect — ancient, resilient guest,You called me creature, then labeled me pest.Three hundred million years I’ve flown,Before your kind had ever grown. We are the pulse of leaf and bloom,In buzzing fields, we chase perfume.Seventy-five percent, we thrive —Keeping this
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