◉ Draw.

Ricardo Sexton

Whistling, sitting by an old tree
Gazing into the wide, deep lake
Reminiscing of when I was free
Questioning this so called ‘fate’

Myriad Fireflies dancing about
Thousand lights without a flaw
Into the formless winds sprout
A symphony that leaves in awe

Out, “I look up in sheer wonder”
About this locked up world I see
Which answers in mere blunder
And testify to the things that be

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