Melchor F. Cichon
March 1, 2019
Almost each day
I see you taking your lunch
Alone.
I thought
You just wanted solitude
Like the morning star
In the east.
Until
I heard the whistling wind
Among the bamboo leaves.
Until
I read your mind
And heard
From your officemates
About your soiled
Tongues.
You just wanted solitude
Like the morning star
In the east.
Until
I heard the whistling wind
Among the bamboo leaves.
Until
I read your mind
And heard
From your officemates
About your soiled
Tongues.
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