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Jun 2012
A six pack puzzle rests in its place on the shelf,
Winding and winding and whirring itself.
A boy takes it up and cries through the case,
Every tear from his eye, washing his father’s face.
There’s hundreds of you, to fill every ambulance,
Flashing and singing your way to the cells.
What to call a puzzle that stays unsolved,
Until time counts the stars of eternity.
Georgia
Written by
Georgia
755
 
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