| Traces My kingdom for a horse - which is a city like any other. The farriers of this kingdom, lay down their tools at the end of the day. I prove we all exist by begging one for a horse shoe to nail above my door. He agrees and kindly winks. I am ready, to throw away my walking shoes and ride. but another shakes his head, telling me to behave. Wishes may be less than horses to other beggars. I watch as they sweep left-over neighs into a corner with their brooms.
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