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04-08-03, 10:50 AM | #1 | ||||||
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take it in blood
IP: 4717 A78C
Poor on the surface, but always seemed a wealthy man
Ignoring self demands to give others a helping hand Happy doing manual labor to handle a favor Lived on the side but provided an example for neighbors Raised a carpenter, this man was a craftsman for show But everyone ached for the secrets he happened to know Why nothing brought him down.. he always whistled a tune Chin was high, while the rest of us are dismal at noon There was always pride within the swing of his hammer Fussing over a wooden knot, rather than things like cancer The whole town wondered how he was so insightful Craving the same thing he uses to fuel his light bulb Maybe if I knew, it could plant the appleseed So once I approached him, and the answer baffled me.. “Don’t think I’m an angel, from the lessons I’ve shed My feet only float cuz they dangle off the edge of my bed Now if you must know, I guess I’ll share your weakness: The pursuit of happiness doesn’t mean we’re guaranteed it So live for yourself, and don’t be pressed with the worries Use what you’re given and make the best of your journey” And by the rest of the story, cliché should make him vanish But he just went back to work, not trying to save the planet Sawing, nailing, and painting his table.. One question still remained.. “sir, why aren’t you a saint or an angel?” He replied, “it was my pride that sent me here, it’s not an illusion.. That fracture in my wing is because I once forgot I was human" |
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