The Weeping Willows

Inside my world of fences are places where I go to dream.    Where the sun can’t get in and the monsters are not allowed.    I peek between the vines and see thousands of lost hopes and there are a few of mine left about. 

There in my realm tightly secure with a moat of thickets I laugh at the cries of the hideous demons.   Bullies each they stare but I assure my friends,   it is outside of my weeping willows that can’t get in.

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