Ficlets

Depressed

I heard glass brook
From a far distance
There was a cook
With a mallet in his hand

Near by was a girl
Whom stood with long black hair
She was crying
In such despair

It turns out a father he was
An anxious one if that
He said Good-bye
Put on his hat
Walked lonely down the street

Red And Black Are The Only Things I See
When I’m In My Misery

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