How many times do I have to raise my eyes
To clearly see where on the ceiling the light lies?
I even put on my eye-glasses, but in vain;
Only a spider web stuck with many flies slain.
A socket I turn to, and a torch I light;
Maybe, it is a ladder I need to right
To find out what is wrong with the bleak ceiling;
As I touch it, I find it has been leaking.
Now, I see why all my blankets are soaked,
and why the light I have looked forward to is blocked;
The drops leaking,
My pores, they are penetrating;
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