Stay outside this line, Child, this boundary around this house
There's no place for your kind of mind here.

Stretch your long arm in, now that I'm old, and tend to my needs, and be nice.
Why are you cold and unkind in your manner?

Because, Father mine, I've lived outside, fending for myself. Scavenging.
My arm does stretch long and reaches inside, but my sweetness
Got lost in the scavenging.

View wemni's Full Portfolio