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Phillip Boyd Aug 2012
Joybird* fleets hearts so pure, full of hope
Nature’s ephemeral being, it disembarks,
Sings its song, tugs at the soul rope
I smile widely, Anxiety now parks

No more hunting, appetite content
Till abruptly joybird gets up and flies again
Happiness, no longer I am starkly spent
From Heaven to Hell, Phoenix will begin

Patterns all too familiar, hope is forwith broken
but time will heal all, life prior to is forever unspoken

— The End —