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Adoption '11


don’t you realize?

all men are children

and ache for a playful spirit.

oh, they wait with a temper

stomping, crying, asking,

throwing their hearts,

and eating their minds away

with sparkles, thrills, images

like their reflection.

and i am an orphan

wanting a father

longing for mother

kick-ing my legs

y a w n i n g


(missing someone, or something?)

oh my father,

who are you?

where are you?







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