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Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2011 10:39 pm
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Even saplings grow into old trees-- creaking and complaining with every sigh of the wind. Their branches, once slim and delicate, now gnarled, twisted, and angry-looking. Bark which had once been smooth to the touch is now hard, cracked, and lined deep with age.
He lies there, under their shade, and watches them-- these old trees. He, too, is old... and his bones share in their pain.
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