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Large piles of red and brown
Drop toward the cold, hard, ground.
Eighteen candles now blown away
This is the icing on the cake.
In my mind, I weighed some scales.
Jury says my parents failed
With axis pointing to the twins of June
They weren’t ready for the birth of doom.
Through the looking glass,
I see a giant gash.
A big fat cow stares back at me.
I try to kill the enemy.

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