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Hephaestus's Tools
November 9, 2015
Bing! Bang! Boom!
We slave away at an anvil
Making weapons for all the gods
We do all the work, he gets all the credit
We work like farmers, hard and true
We are the stem to the flower,
Without us, he is nothing
Our services are forgotten yet dire
Without us, man would still not have fire
© Mary A., Fullerton, CA
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This poem is about the point of view of Hephaestsus's tools.