Collected Re

[Guest guest]

oh marching ants

this was my free will, this was my desire

with your light, I lit a fire

I burnt these roots

In bright blue pants and shining boots

I sent these words flowing from solstice

my branches built the bridge to nowhere

I must have been denied the pen and paper for a thousand years

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alan

 

 

 

 

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