March 6, 2009
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Ribbon red
With sweet delight
A pleasure I fed
To taste and sight

The unneeded stem
Has nothing I can use
The thicket keeps the freedom
Its ability to choose

As I looked around
The berry thickened rows
I saw the berry's on the ground
A waste that nature grows

I could hope the mountains
Would allow the saving rain
But the surrendered loss of freedom
Would still allow the pain

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