When they see,
Before anyone else,
What we all were supposed to be waiting for,
The prophets will weakly blow,
Through cracked skin and lips,
Weak and warbling notes,
And we will look up,
And look in the higher places,
The mountains and old trees,
But we foolish,
Ashamed,
Will not look into your eyes,
Or feel your body,
Until we can do nothing,
SitStandFloatFlyDrownDie,
But say we're so so Sorry.
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