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The Boy

He sat on the doorstep

With his arms around his knees

Watching the passers by and wondering why

They don't see what he seesHe watched from the window

with his hands over his ears

Listening to all the words he'd ever heard

You don't hear what he hearsHe stands on your doorstep

With his life under his feet

Arms full of roses

Watchfulness

He'll be what he will be

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