ohana
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Friends: Your chosen family;
I still have yet to pick someone worthy.
I have chosen wrong before in the past,
And time is going fast.
Where's the Stitch to my Lilo?
The last grain falls to the bottom of the glass.
The sands of time chime 12 o'clock.
The leaves begin to age and fall to their graves,
the air mourns in cool sorrow.
But the end of summer as we know it
