The Monotonous Melancholy - Poem
Wrapped in a thin blanket,
I stood looking at the sun rise.
Barely thick enough,
To protect against the harsh weather.
I still stood standing,
A lonely lion of the forest.
Not hoping for a season of rain,
Not hoping for a delightful evening.
Submitting to the whims of the others,
The lion lives out his years merely for the sake of living
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