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A wise one in the trees looking down upon us as his wings move through the breeze. Yet, he chooses to stay and not fly away, and methinks he has no being, no will
There's an owl outside my window.The last place to
A night owl isperched on a weeping willow,watching souls pass by.
Concrete wasn’t always made so harsh and solid In fact it was mostly straw When I walk without my shoes on It rubs my poor feet raw