About a simple thing,
Like honey in tea or kids with heartburn,
Of no controversy,
Of course, I can't remember what it was,
Which is a thing itself,
Where did that idea run off to?
I'm sure it's on a shelf,
It is sitting, waiting to be retrieved,
Wond'ring why it's alone,
Eventu'lly buried behind others,
Never to find a home,
A place that's safe,
Where it can soar up high,
And show the world what it was meant to be.
Man, I wish I could find that little guy.
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