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April 3, 2009
It sat up high
in the barn. No
bugs or worms or
poop.
The rain came, but the
shingles kept it out. 'Til the roof
leaked.
Barriers crumbled, the Insignificant
weakene with moisture and
fell, as a dead
spider from a ceiling fan.
The Fallen is now
derepit. And sits in a
classroom for students to
ponder,
glassy-eyed,
and pen pathetic poetry in ten minutes or
Less.
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