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Father And Son
For quite a time you sail
Like a paper boat on this river
Then you want a change
In these little things you get
You feel you deserve
To fly and be this kite
On air and face the
Rage of storms
You are proud of it
Claiming you have managed
Yourself so well
Sufficient, until the cord was
Cut,
Now I have to find you
where You landed
With some broken bones
From this cliff
To the rugged terrains
Of that mountain
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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