Yet they keep me and sometimes kiss me,
In their celebrations they recite me,
In disputes they swear by me,
On shelves do they securely keep me
Till another celebration or dispute,
When they need me.
Yes, they read me and memorize me,
Yet only an ornament am I.
My message lies neglected,
My treasure untouched,
The field lies bare, where blossomed once
true glory.
Wrong is the treatment that I receive
So much to give have I, but
None is there to perceive.
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