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He stood erect and silent for a moment,
then the wind howled and he began,
his wide eyes full of the sorrows
he mentioned in his song.
The harmonics hummed gently as he continued,
the melancholy tune echoing through the woods.
Then, silence. The pause was brief.
He began again accompanied by a sole saxophone,
another song of hardship.
The tune faded into silence again,
and the tired, wide eyes turned to me,
perhaps a silent cry for help
for one down on his luck.
But before I could reply, he was gone,
fleeing to the darkness that so inhibited his soul.
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