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He could not bear the

slash of words

that reminded him

of faults – stole from brothers

and sister

needed cash

for treats and such.

He was a smart

young man – good at math

but skipped classes

from rules and even more

felt penned in – needed

adventure. The road called him.

As a hobo on a train

far away places

seemed to call his name.

Now he sits quietly

by his campfire burning low

sure that words on the

wind call come home. Son

we need you.

We love you.