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Old Henry built it with his own hands, harvested the wood from his own lands. He dug the well and laid the stone and worked real hard to make it his own.   Henry plowed the fields and tilled the soil,
If tomorrow never comes and I’ve still not found a way to do the things I’d like to do but failed to day-by-day, I just want you to  know the dreams that I possessed, the hopes that kept me going,
Some folks see her in the window,   just a shadow standing there. Some folks hear her in the morning when she sings her daily prayer, but they’ve never really met her and she likes it just that way.
counting knots in the wood slats- the ones i can feel my nonexistent breath bounce off against the ones holding up the musty mattress that does not get granted a body for most of the year silent cabin
Lazy rain patters on the rooftop Drops roll down the glass window A room - dimly lit and cool A tea kettle whispers slow   Through the window streams
I stare out my open door Feeling the wind whirl around me  Causing my red hair to spin and fly  As the giant trees look down at little me I smile up at them Just happily being in my oasis
O, little house.
My heart is like a cabin in the woods; Hidden from sight. Sometimes I’ll raise signs to show that life still lives here, But I forget; There is no one around to see it
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