<> the wee little ones cry out loudest fearful of being dying unnoticed for they're not the stoutest or profoundest
“we’re always among the forgot, for we come so quick, oft left to rot, as you street walk in the early morn composing on and on and on
and our sweet little rhymes, smaller than a dime, oft arrive as twins or even triplets, so fast and so furious, they go unwitnessed so we can’t be recalled, stillbirthed, unborn,
therefore we’ve decided to take you hostage, treatied with your leggings, no home return permitting ! until we are recorded, and given up for adoption”
P. S. how do ya like them shorties now?
a true story “ no, he never returned, and his fate is still unknown” 5:00am