sat by the window last year...

As she sits by the window her gaze drifts astray
Over the sea to a land far away
A land where a people uncommonly kind
Sit for hours and hours on their fat behinds
Just sitting and thinking and talking aloud
About what makes them happy and what makes them proud
And the things that make them want to laugh and to cry
But those things they are rare and I'll tell you why
They're a people who never say words that offend
Who would rather an enemy became a friend
Who don't scream and argue or get into fights
But who converse in rhythm all day and all night
For poetry to them is somewhat a must
A poet you know it is always robust
They can stand all that sways them the sticks and the stones
For there's something so strong that runs through their bones
It's a talent that sets them apart from the world
A treasure more potent than silver or gold
The way of the tongue and the stroke of the pen
The knowledge they'll never grow lonesome again
Because when you have literature or simply a song
The shortest of stanzas will make you stay strong
If your brain is engaged and your heart entertained
Then your never alone with your mind as a friend
And that is the place where our Little Red goes
When she's jealous or longing or feeling morose
To that good little land where she feels so at home
Because there as she knows she is never alone

The End

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