December 5, 2013
Sitting in this chair
My lungs fill with air
I se through the window
And I find a little willow
So beautiful that nothing can compare.

Then, I become aware
That the world is not fair
For there lies a weeping widow.
What can we do?

We plead them to take care
Only to find that forever gone they were.
I lean low
In hopes to grow
And to overcome these difficulties I dare.
What can we do?

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