Neither tall nor short,
Neither funny nor snotty,
Neither crisp nor damp,
Neither me nor you.
To them we are but
A figment of the inner lives.
There is no rebellion,
No constant bickering,
Only the plain consent of
Achievement mixed with concrete
And sand...
Words they speak fly like the sand
Settle among hairs and inside ear lobes,
A whisper is heard over and over again...
They speak within and without,
It is the same... They are there,
Not there but there, there and there!
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