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Message in the wind.
I stepped on it and shook my foot,
It hung on like a fish freshly hooked.
It appeared to have feces on one edge, There was my foot stuck on its
words.
The message was hard for me to see,
My glasses are greasy being a cook you see.Who cooked that sticky stuff up? Not Dukey my Boarder Collie pup.
I couldn't bend over, The best way to recover,
From this dillema I stuck my foot into.
For age made me stiff and full of pain,
So I wandered in the rain with the message.
I imagined what it said. are you happy, sad or wed?
Are you hungry fat and fed?
Are your hormones normal, your parties formal?
Or are you just like me?
A man with some shit stuck to his foot.
His imfamy and fame stuck in some nook.
Perhaps the message carries the secret.
so bend over my friend,
And suffer the pain,
For nothing ventured is nothing gained.
I bent over and found,
A photo of a child and a puppie,
With a note to share love,
The message was clear,
chase in the wind,
What you hold dear.
poem
by
John Shea
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