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Sit, Stay, Good Boy
Wandering, you ever are.
One place then the next, constantly moving.
I feel anxious when I don't know where you are.
It constantly pops up in my mind that you are not in my sights.
I barely feel I know you.
You probably don't acknowledge my existence.
You don't know me.
How I can get.
When it's dramatic, the waves crash down harder upon the strong, changing shore.
Shining.
The eyes I wish to see.
Movement.
Where I don't want you to be.
Funny, life works against us.
How you won't stay still.
How I won't move.
Will this become something?
Or fall into the nothing many others reside in?
I wish not of the latter.
I wish a lot.
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