May 20, 2009
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Walking in a line
one by one we file by
tiki torches light our path
as we pass the notes drizzled on the ground.
All in silence, carrying wood blocks
marked with the words that have scared us all our lives.
As we make our way to the fire
we toss our block into the pile.
We take a seat and watch
as those hurtful words slowly burn.
They burn into nothing but ashes
reminding us that eventhough it happens
they all just end up becoming smoke.

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