Call me a loner, one that can't mix,
Call me a vagabond, beyond redemption or fix,
I revel in the disorder of my unlit backwoods,
Where with the overgrowth and wild, I seamlessly mix,
Where, I may endlessly water and foster every twig,
So plucked leaves and flowers may sprout and live again,
I will be their sun and with love, render the deciduous, evergreen,
In a world where my backwoods and I will see no pain,
So, my dear mad world, don't seek me back in your midst, ever again.
Call me a vagabond, beyond redemption or fix,
I revel in the disorder of my unlit backwoods,
Where with the overgrowth and wild, I seamlessly mix,
Where, I may endlessly water and foster every twig,
So plucked leaves and flowers may sprout and live again,
I will be their sun and with love, render the deciduous, evergreen,
In a world where my backwoods and I will see no pain,
So, my dear mad world, don't seek me back in your midst, ever again.
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