A very, very long, long time ago,
Sam Weaver shows up like a small hero,
tresses of blonde flow like a lion's mane,
in an instant, he tackles a tall boy,
takes him down, off the small immigrant kid,
creating a moment to remember,
however insignificant for all
in years to come, they go their separate ways,
no one recalls the short-lived incident.
The small immigrant kid remained little
in size for the rest of his life, tiny
men make mincemeat of mighty warriors,
ever compact, their size becomes a strength.
Sam Weaver was not tall in appearance,
as for the ladies, this made him mignon,
vengeance during recess was the order
everyday, to prove height did not matter,
strength of character created his will.
No one would deny their friendship was slight
in terms of common threads to weave a cloth
notably to last the life of a suit,
ever aware, a spider mends her web.
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