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Posted by MFish

You're a man now, don't you cry.
Words that still echo in my head.
To this day, coming from years past,
When being stoic, was not a choice,
But a state of deportment, for you.
It served me well, through the years,
To keep that "stiff upper lip."
So I was surprised, when one day
I felt a tear roll down my cheek.
A sad movie or tragic scene,
Demean me not in Public, you see,
For being stoic is what I am
Supposed to be, makes little sense.
I understand, but I must
Act like a man, not shed a tear.

I looked at the wall,
purple it was,
covered with vines
and a pinkish fuzz.
I saw some movement,
off to the side,
when I looked again
my eyes opened wide,
for there, by the trunk
of a short, squatty tree,
a creature was looking
directly at me.
A small creature,
about three feet tall,
something you'd find
if you went to the mall.
It had four legs
and a tail so very long,
I knew at a glance
that it didn't belong
here in the room
looking at me,
so I woke from my stupor
and set it free.
Free from my mind
where it's life began;
free to enter my dream
once more, again.

Oh, oh I said
as I turned the next page.
What happened here
is a small outrage.
A page out of order,
is what I saw,
an obvious error
or a simple flaw,
of my writing too fast,
of the words, that I know
that spray from my past.
Wait a minute; Just woah,
it's not a mistake
as it really does matter,
when writing the words
it is not idle chatter.

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