pats on his back do abound
frank talks from hearts do flow
but can he trust them
friend or foe?
i scuttle and i scurry from little nooks to little crannies,i question and i lament about a world full of resentment,i seek and hope to find the little light thats meant to shine and from the cracks beneath the door i make my way across the floor.
Foe in friend's clothing.
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