I'd rather have them filled with fairies and kind witches.
But perhaps things can't always be, happy forever and after,
Or, all nights filled with stars and days with fun and laughter.
But surely, one day, my wish will at long last be heard,
Maybe I could attatch a note, to the leg of a little bird,
I'd write, 'whoever finds my note, and reads my printed plea,
Don't screw it up and throw it away, please find my breath for me.
Tushie
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