As he walks into the world
Leaving a hole in the fog for you to follow
His shield to the worlds poison tipped arrows
Streets melt and drain away
Left is the man with the cardboard sign for help
The one you passed everyday
Eyes cold like the sky in December
Clouds sigh as prairie grass bows
Ink drips from pen to parchment
Leaving secrets of passed thinkers
Begging to be seen through eyes of poets
- rome
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