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Buoyed pot Feb 2019
Where to hide? Where to conceal?
I fail to understand this famine.
They have robbed my merry zeal
and now prevails the devil’s time.
Taciturnly they have eloped from my sight,
Bricks of blue is what they have left.
This is the lost treasure that has clanged to life in the night
Yet this parky night has failed to freeze my breath.
I agree to sign the fatal bond with the supreme
And still be sure of my inevitable victory
For I have made sagacious plans in the afternoon green
The rebels will soon begin to continue this story

— The End —