Foot phalange fabaceae fruit

No words suffice

To full emphasize

The danger in his eyes

And when he lies

In the distance cries

Old sirens of goodbye

So he starts to crawl

With outstretched paw

About him oceans fall

The silence tall

The waves lie small

“Stay,” his crashing calls

They turn their backs

Import the love he lacks

He lets himself relax

But if the past should track

Vicious truth attacks—

He knows they won’t be back

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