I scrathed my left foot.
I alleviated its itch.
The persistence permeated me.
I scrathed the right foot,
though not through the fabric.
I didn't think it'd matter.
But it mattered to the unseen sovereign
of the equality.
I had to scratch the other one.
And still it didn't make me feel complete.
I still couldn't fulfill.
(It's probably my fault.)
I didn't complete.
I couldn't succeed.
It's probably my fault.
I had to scratch the other one
in the interest of equality.
Did it matter?
No, it didn't.
But it had to be done.
I only hardlink because I have to.