Brought to shield from rain.
No rain came.
Ought to have been confiscated by security.
No security in force.
Might have beaten �sketchy� Parisans.
They stayed their distance.
Thought to be a wise investment.
A total joke.
O Umbrella when will your time come?
To unfold your wings?
Not here.
Not with me.
Lost.
Someday Later.
Somewhere else.
With another.
When it is God�s will.
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This is a poem about God's providence
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