The Path I TakeA Chapter by Not hereIn a long, strong, beating pace of a heart or a march. He's an overstated, complicated man and so am I. Please, will you tell him a story? Maybe let him sing along? I and we are so utterly scared to be completely wrong. March the men out of the back, and let them go on their way. We have no use for them, no excuse to keep them here today. If they're happy, let them flee. If they're sad, then let them see things will get better the next day if you only live to be. Ninety-three, a ripe old age, but for the boy who will die he would love to just be twelve, eleven, or maybe nine. And if words don't always rhyme perfectly he doesn't care. It would be nice in the moment to have a black strand of hair. Cold and frigid, losing hope, while the world outside is shot. It's no wonder that he starts to think if ever there's a thought about him in the community, or if anyone cares. Can they care for a little boy who could number all his hairs? On the other side of town, a baby girl is born. She is new and very smiling, but soon she will be worn. Life tears down and doesn't give; takes your life and with it lives. At the end of the day, all of us are still captives. Smile for me, little boy. You would make a fine poster. And the sales that are decreasing you would very quickly bolster. Leave the brains, forget the names. Just remind me your disease. Can we take a human mannequin and make him human, please?
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5 Reviews Added on November 12, 2016 Last Updated on November 12, 2016 Author
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