Come, sit with me my friend. No need to fret. Just. Let. It. See? It’s there, it’s not you. But. It. Is. And. It. Is. All of it.
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Be still - Whakarongo. Just. Let. It. Leaves leave down stream. So. Let. It. Be. And when it’s ready. Let. It.
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In your mourning, know it. In your evening, when staring at what is now. And disbelief turns to rage and rage turns into grief in your panic for relief.
