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Friday, December 24, 2021

who knows

 The knowing of forevermore dressed in green and white

spoken to the silver moon all through out the night

the might of worry drawn in by the morning light

begone is still the way we were woken up by the fright


Tall the grass and the tomorrows flight

spoken softly and greed and sounds of might

glory and love soft and cool makes not right

broken by tomorrows fool timed but not to bite.