My toes move, shuffle through the leaves
as I attempt to stand up straight.
And though I have no world to carry,
my legs move trembling due to weight.
To all who are watching I cry out loud:
'This punishment, I can't abide!
Your glances sting into my now-crooked back -
not much longer, I would have died!'
It seems the trees, they step aside
so I won't touch them as I glide
my final way to the underground.
My last words sound, addressing all the beholders:
'I carry no world, but weight of death on my shoulders.'
CSN en het Engels. Ach ja. Het is eens wat anders.
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I'M NOT YOUR MOTHER'S FAVORITE DOG
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