I saw a boy rushing home
To be beaten by his father
For being late and forgetful
I stood on the road to watch
Some strange shapes of clouds
A cluster of lightening strikes
Like a bouquet in the south
Part of me wanted to run
Right into the storm like that boy
Part of me just stood there helpless
And suddenly it all let go
Like a gush of tears that wouldn't stop
A father calling for his son
A son weeping for his father
A love that will never be done
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