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 Mar 2021 Nidhi
Black Lake
 Mar 2021 Nidhi
dynamite and gasoline
a match strike
and the World drinks oil
 Jul 2020 Nidhi
Lost Savant
 Jul 2020 Nidhi
Come home now
Dear lost savants

You can't save them all
It's not what they want

Weaving webs of sticky persuasion
Venomous insinuations

Looking through the dark
Of what love really means

The distance between us
Mere words upon a wing

Come back
It's a birds eye view

You've been lost
And their waiting for you

Dear lost savants
Please return

The world out there
Will always burn!
Traveler Tim
Common people called him stingy
And with his funds he was.
But he was parsimonious
In areas that they never saw.

True, he never spent a dime
If he could get it free.
He never wasted any time
That anyone could see.

He didn’t have much love to give
And wanted no love back
He had a certain way to live
Laid out in white and black.

He didn’t give and didn’t take.
He had no use for friends.
He died alone and that’s the way
This kind of story ends
The word was, of course, Parsimonious.  I  like doing these, but am having trouble keeping up  with one a day every day.  They are easy, but sorta like graffitti on a wall.  It's OK to paint them out.
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