The old ways
The wind cascading in waves
Whispering in its aggressiveness
There it will stay
The scarecrow can't swing it
As he stands upright with his arms outstretched
As if trying to get the feel of the cascading wind
His open space can't embiggen his needs
So he can't put on display
Let everyone see and say
He has no ears to listen
He stands there like a peacock
The old ways
The rhythm sways in back door
It doesn't want others to watch
In silence it spins its tales
The old ways cascading in waves
The people's needs are secondary
We can shout and scream
The wind just screaming it away
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