It’s owner, it’s writer, ever alert, always astute
Will bear the justifiable fruits of his nimble-fingered labour
That one special word, sometimes even as much as ten at a time, forever looking to be unearthed
When it rains it sure does pour
A longing for something of a majestic saviour
Balancing him rather perfectly between wbat’s pristine, what might not be deemed as such
An oh so humble soldier still willing to use his crutch
Remember, a touch of failure on one side will always be seen as success on another

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