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Seven Is Too Old


Brent Fuller

One is that we count five fingers
We possess not
Or nickel either

Two is that each test is new
And scored not too

Three is the age where we come to see
And at four hang out our shingle.
No barrier or obstacle
And no sucking your finger

Five is a messy stew
Learn to get along

Permanence shadows each next note
Six is assuming our dark cloak
Its how we stand the fog and chill
We detect God
And look elsewhere still

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