he hunts
sort of
he searches and chases
but the pigs' blood remains unshed
the island is green
between the high sea
and the high C#
the island is barren
with not a single teacher to praise him
nor a parent to love him
he dreams
he hopes to sink his knife into a pig
or two pigs or three
dilute the blood within the water
run the island red
but what does a high C# matter
when no one around cares?
his talents forgotten
the conch just out of his reach
the island remains green
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