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May 2010
gripped in a stance of personal defence,
it all seems too late as we primp and prop
for the struggle, it appears too much.
floating in a sea of white graces,
for fear, it never looks too clear.
crazed eyes, they stare and glare,
we must exit, all in such haste.
Written by
Dyllies
710
     D Conors
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