A poem you can hug - as written by George Sands
A sweet master Russell lay sleeping on his comfy pillow,
Dreaming of the big time that would come in the not too distant years,
A brash teenage Russell found solace in a different set of pillows,
Keeping at bay his insecurities and fears,
The accomplished Mr. Tovey learned his lines, took his mark and cried on cue,
Pillows are but for the few.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9M9nTst5e0lN8ZEbfV4ire_UhhbmE5Dw7OzHNURZiy6Ze7vIUeuqQTdIn2zs64O3BnqP2QIL5q1_bXwS1tS1hmvYQK6jh3SdXaakg-Q-Phyphenhyphent19uuNSuPug5boGU1BhXhT7USXjwXL4Iml/s400/10+years+tumblr_kximh04BFa1qadnaro1_500.jpg)
Dreaming of the big time that would come in the not too distant years,
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2hdap5GG0WkSMYGcA33lQB3nyvIXlR8sOZZLy5oCmrJ234IrI-M_8fTm1tsZgp20BxMg3fg1eDV1dH2MQd_CGOQcmaDitdUgAyMtx4lVQNTt9jAgDLUl6CzoRlyfs0SvkuGZUQt_rDHb/s400/309282.jpg)
Keeping at bay his insecurities and fears,
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqr_JmMA1l8GKOdpFUlS2CR4qy38jE8Xl7sPgl1voCx5zEc0sD215D_75CjXwlHylTpv_vd8ZDqmmIhglfupMvWggFx_7NxxyGgONRwCcA_KlJ1IsgbNHC7Q13UfDmeR2bgFnvZjHix6Vd/s400/tears+tumblr_l0n28o1Mrh1qzjcdeo1_500.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5PJWbwEeBuas905EOTQ5OuTZrOoxM3PFJsJ66MicBKhovdqrpymaTFnHLIOjAfn3f379c-qHgVyVYo5hOasucsoUF1XUCkusBCRLUK0ySky6jgzMIi-AgqAlbbr3iSqMf5eH_gl_Xp3Pk/s400/beinghuman+rusty+cartoon.jpg)
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