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Comments about Nicko Smith
December, Give Me Wings!
He scanned the early December
His mane flaunting in the wind
He thought of the future
And shyly smiled from time to time
He would sing lullabies to dead children
And make love to the skies
Sometimes he would stare
At the seething sorbet
He would hug the shadows of the non-existant
As his tears fell into infinity
-He decidedly stepped into the fog
And woke up dead