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Pauline Morris May 2016
Like a lone tree standing on the ledge
Roots desperately grabbing on to the rocky soil
Time slips slowly by
One gain of sand at a time
It's roots are losing it's grip
And off the cliff it's starting to go
It's such a painful processes to watch
Please avert your eyes before the final pop
Of that last root giving way
At lest it could be said it held on as long as it could

— The End —