Apothecary’s Pestle and Mortar
In the small room where I play
I start grinding mom's pills
And on the small bench I splay
The dirt from the medicine.
Sleeping in the tinkering glass
I did not care for precision
As I dream in the small room
In the classroom where I learn
I start earning knowledge
And on the small desk where I yearn
To work among wise giants
Sleeping in the wise glass
Among the books and titans
As I think in the small room
In the Academy where I'll master
Medicine will be my name
And on the podium like the pastor
I seek to teach about my craft
Sleeping in the sovereign glass
Among masters of remedies
As I craft in the small room
In the small room where I'll work
I start grinding drugs
And on that one room I'll smirk
At my own pestle and mortar
Sleeping in the healer's glass
Saturday and Sunday I sleep
Monday I go to the small room
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