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A
poem is never finished, only abandoned. ~Paul Val�ry
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Come, Child
Come child Let it be known Playful as a pussycat Ferocious as a lion. Careful of claws on my back Unless you scratch with passion Careful of teeth on my breast Unless you bite with caution. Come, child Let it be known Playful as a pussycat Ferocious as a lion Lest you be purring My soul will be scratched A million furrows in the palm Of your scarred hand. Come, child Let it be known Playful as a lion Ferocious as a pussycat. raw || truth |