AGATHA.

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He laughed

threw another rock

watched the pretty birds fly away


To him

life was all a game

no burdens yet

never been tied down


But now I see

the birds lifting their majestic wings

flying up and up into the sky

the freedom he had without knowing.


And freedom like that doesn't last forever.


I hope one day

he'll look back and understand.

I hope he'd remember

the old woman

sitting and talking to his parents

on the snow-covered bench.


She died that night.


And I wonder, when he's older

if he'd ever realise

that even small things can inflict harm

that he could no longer throw rocks


without consequences.

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