Tara Guillory

Dear Friends

If my dear friends ever had the ability to leave
Oh, how would I ever survive?
The day is weary and the night is dreary
Be it far from me the day I never see the discreetness
Of my dear friends
My dear friends are always near,
My dear friends are forever stuck to the soles of my feet
My dear friends, whom have no mouth, but speak in many ways
Are sometimes far more loyal than my verbal friends

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