“Let’s count sheep.” Said Ma, drifting with me far,
To dreams coalescing.
Wretched digits spoke, ne’er to me at par;
Unlike verse caressing.
My self-worth necrosed, by them to eschar,
Math problems distressing.
I strum number-lines, like strings of a guitar,
Meter, verse, syllable; my struggle,
Equity, tax, stocks; figurine bazaar;
Oft jilted in guessing!
Should I learn, I might
Blithely count each star,
Outnumbered by blessing.
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