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Broken
July 12, 2012
Down a well
Through my shell
Sawed right through it
And I never knew it
Down a hill
Up my sill
Scaled my roof
But the point was moot
It doesn't beat,
No not at all
And when it does
It always calls
Attention to flaws
And imperfections
Hearts killed
Then ressurected
How I wish
It had the same rhythm
I miss the
Beat beat beat
© Susan R., Iselin, NJ
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