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Writer's pictureXavier Singleton

The Man

A poem to the man who never questions


The man, o’ do I miss the man, the man who normalizes his reality but never questions. The man who does not trust the stars but believes the diseases they acquire by the knowledge of a doctor. The man who does not play the harp of the universe hums, as the wolf was born, a lion dies, as a baby is born flower grows, fr when the flower grows, a tree dies o’ do I miss the man.


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