Zebulun

I was “cry baby”

To my brothers, no heart of

Stone was mine, and when

We sold my Joseph,

I couldn’t carry on. I

Would not eat, couldn’t

Work, didn’t leave my

Tent, tears soaked my garment, so

I left, so I could

Live, and walked into

The sea. I built a boat and

Caught some fish, and fed

The ones around me.

I built up a city on the coast,

And now all ships come

To me. Yet every

Night, I weep and wail, dream of

Joseph’s golden boat.

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