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ruffedges
- Scotland
- Last Record: 2012-10-05 04:45:06 -0700
- Joined: Jul 09, 2010
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The man who lost his feet
Up a dreary little road There was a dreary little town, With a dreary little man That had a dreary little frown.
What does he look at When he stares at the trees? Nobody Knows, He won’t say what he sees
There is many a tale, Of why he is there, Sitting everyday On an old wheeled chair
Some say, That he’s wrong in the head. That he’s lost his way And he thinks that he’s dead.
Others say That’s just his routine And that it hasn’t Changed since he was a teen.
Most say that We will never know And that he is Content to never show
All that we know Is that every day He sits in silence and Stares the same way
Perhaps he waits For an unknown friend Who’s path through The trees is to wend
What of the elders Can’t they tell? What happened to Put him under that spell?
Most won’t speak But I have heard a rustle As to why it is that He won’t move a muscle
They say that Many moons ago His love ran off Into the snow
He chased after her Into the night And something in there Gave him a terrible fright
For in the morning He was found Lying in a tight little ball On the ground
I know that it’s strange And maybe absurd But from that point on He has barely uttered a word
Except to say That in the trees On that fateful night In the heart of the freeze
A vision came for Him to meet And when it left It took his feet
Up a dreary little road There was a dreary little town, With a dreary little man That had a dreary little frown
He waits patiently In his wheeled seat For the unknown stranger To return his feet |
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The solitary tear sits eternal
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