They call us 'rents'.
Less kind than kin.
Their words obscured in part
Though their tongues
Are hinged and unpinned.
As if they could think,
But not fully speak,
Their minds formed--
Simple,
Mono-syllabic their words,
Concatenated words,
Puffing and cheeky words.
As if, tongues are burdensome,
Spared the effort spent.
Lips to move--hard pressed,
Breathing steady, no duress,
But a second syllable?
It is seldom expressed.
A decade back
Would...
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