Day 13: Who Wood I Be?
The knives are sharp, And the workshop is cold, I hear the chiseling of wood, And wonder if I’ll ever be mold. Will I be a bird, free to fly forever, A cabin in the woods, quiet and discreet,…
The knives are sharp, And the workshop is cold, I hear the chiseling of wood, And wonder if I’ll ever be mold. Will I be a bird, free to fly forever, A cabin in the woods, quiet and discreet,…
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