slipping
swaying
and smashing
thro the
afternoon gloom
of our short life
a means to and end
the only way to mend
is to truly break
bash and bruise
to smithereens
squeeze an squash quash
those fears
reduced to tears
a towering man
mouse in his hand
by his side
a loyal friend
i am both these men
something and nothing
twisting and turning
inside out and upside down
half a smile, three fifths a frown
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