boyirl: “Every branch shaking, shifting, and falling in the icy wind, A tiny leaf at the very end holds strong, Why am I here, questioning wondering waiting, for that final pulse that will blow him down? But in that tree was a force, a force

boyirl: “Every branch shaking, shifting, and falling in the icy wind, A tiny leaf at the very end holds strong, Why am I here, questioning wondering waiting, for that final pulse that will blow him down? But in that tree was a force, a force

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