Father - Daughter - Woodnotes.
This was the the thing too beautiful
To be on soil or sky to be fooled
Little belly clinching the glob
And those tiny little hands clinging the robes
She made her little sleep noises like a woodnote
Where he embraced her without moving his sloth
Soon her eyes closed.
She grew young and younger
He got old and older
Times passed, things changed
She came to him bringing the memento she received.
He saw the glow on her face when she was rushing towards him
He saw and when she came sat by him, he grabbed her robes made those terrible sounds and dropped his face on her lap and sighed
That ain't was at all good to her but it sure as a hell was a woodnote for her.
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