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Perfection

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Wooden pillars stand predominantly within the cold, murky water
I stand on a shady peer, future as clear as a foggy night
A northeast wind blows across the river’s way
And seagulls chirp in the peaceful bay
Night has fallen, the sky from
Blue to black. And the metal
Railings lack any integrity.
Though prosperity flows
In the river’s water.
Tugboats chug and
Sailors dream
And I deem this,
Perfection.



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