Ward Ap Bio Lab 5 Answers

As children grow and the hours we speak ...

As children get older and times you speak
, underground, slowly, you turn off. Lumbre
buried and alone, wick of the shadow, horror vein
for digs you.

is so easy to say "my father" and it is so difficult
find, larva
of God, seeds of hope! I mourn
sometimes, and I will not mourn because I spend

as a landslide, because you spend
a tremendous wind, like a shiver
under the sheets, like a worm
slow over the soul!

If we could only say: "Dad, onion powder
, tiredness, nothing, nothing, nada "!
If you swallow with a drink!
If this pain stab you!
If this reporting sleeplessness
-wound, vomiting of blood-
pulls your face!

I know you neither I nor a couple
Balbas,
not a copper calf or
wings holding the death or
foam that wrecks the sea or not-the beaches,
sand, stone submissive wind and water,
or the tree is the grandfather of his shadow,
or our sun, a step of its branches and the ripe fruit
, incandescent, or the root
pearls and flakes,
or your uncle or your chozno, or your hiccups,
or my folly, and not your back, dark time
know we run
froms warm to the gray veins.
(Time empty vial of vinegar, remembering snail
hangover.)

Here everything is, everything passes,
everything, everything is finished.
"But you? But me? But what about us?
why raise the floor? Served
what love?
what was the wall that stopped
death? Where was
the black child in your stores?
Angeles
got beheaded at the bottom of your box, and I threw up
rock, dirt, tears,
to no longer go out, so do not go.

Jaime Sabines. Stay

forgotten. Please, do not go out.