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"opponents" poems
talkshows and the yellow press get excited in excess over his shenanigans that delight his faithful fans rumors of these *** affairs strong words for all macho players      in the game of social thrones texts with threatening undertones      for minorities and women      treating immigrants like demons neither fans nor his opponents  seem to notice the components of the white house strategy      throw them bones      fodder for the yellow press and while  they fight clandestinely out of sight works the Trumpian policy   money laundering   blatant lies scolding allies   breaking ties adoring foes   praising those      usurpers of democracies      experts in atrocities slowly yet persistently      undermine  civility        with foul language  fill all courts with servile judges court the aristocracies           of oil sheikdoms in the East praising communist dictators who have helped him build his towers step by step he‘s leading US from the groups of international powers to an isolation desert at the margins of the world slogans we have rarely heard over decades         now re-nourished twittered with presidential flourish make America small again warning voices call in vain no wonder the statue of liberty is hiding her face in misery (*)
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
fake president
Back in the days of old when knights were bold who with a sword or lance in armour sought romance. It was the age of chivalry long ago in man’s history when to fight for a righteous cause one did gain considerable applause. It was mainly for show, love and glory they deemed themselves being worthy to capture the heart of some fair maiden which was the most desired prize laden. Oh, they would strike heavy blows on all of their opponents and foes in a one to one combat defying death as crowds watched with abated breath. Yes, it was far back in those days of yore that courage and strength came to the fore where there was this life and death struggle; such issues at hand the knights would juggle. And in fighting for their country, faith and king noble impressions on people’s minds would ring that even through the ages are held in high esteem those knights in shinning armour do now all seem. There are many legends based on their heroic exploits a legacy of tales which have been told with much adroit highlighting aspects of human wisdom related to virtue and vice and the lessons to be learnt are those of goodness and sacrifice. History usually repeats itself time and again as it often happens a situation comes when we’re asked to do something for a just cause and acting with chivalry we shouldn’t pause.
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Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 10:20 AM UTC
The Age Of Chivalry
Imagine a world with no discrimination A world living in harmony comprising of peaceful nations The only colour reference would be made to nature Humans will no longer be judged on their nomenclature Such is a dream seen by all But Sir Mandela was the one who took the call On July 18, 1918, a hero was born But due to his colour all everyone did was scorn No one in his family had ever attended school He was the first one to break this rule On the first day of school their teacher gave them an English name This was an African custom due to British bias – how mundane And that is how Nelson became his first name He kept it even after he shot to fame A member of the African National Congress He gave his opponents a reason to stress A great politician, revolutionist, lawyer and philanthropist Served 27 years in jail but never used his fist Although a controversial figure for most of his life He won the Nobel Peace Prize for ending the South African apartheid strife On December 5, 2013, this giant passed away The things that we can learn from him are a lot more than I can say
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Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 10:30 AM UTC
Nelson Mandela
An away game at Leeds! The Loiner Lion will have its feeds. So it was, back in the day When Revie’s Men held full sway. Reaney, Charlton, Hunter, Cooper, That defence was really super. David Harvey, ‘keeper complete, Guaranteed a solid clean sheet. The midfield ruled by Bremner and Giles, Billy’s energy, Johnny’s wiles. Lorimer and Gray down the wings, Recalling Eddie (Gray), oh my heart sings. Jones and Clarkey gave us goals, Lots of them, shoals and shoals. 73-74 our greatest year, Opponents always full of fear. Man U relegated that season too, Better days there were very few. We won the league by a merry mile, Time to smile as we did it in style. In 69 we lost just two from 42. Opponents didn’t know what to do. Burnley and City our only losses, Otherwise we were the bosses. 92 was another good year, Man U crying in their beer. Then we sold them Cantona, That really was a bridge too far. The rest is history as they say; We strive again to have our day. In the second tier on Italian money, Seeking the land of milk and honey. The Premiership’s the place where we should be, Please Messi, join us, on a free! We hanker for those glory days. God please help us with your mysterious ways. Paul Butters © PB 11\9\2015.
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 5:42 AM UTC
We Are Leeds
a knight in shining armor is a man who has never had his metal truly tested. I start off with a quote, that adds spice to the fish in the boat, who say that their knights in shining armor have fought, hard enough for the ladies who've put in thought, that the man that comes to sweep them of they feet is fit with an armor so glamorous that it shines all the time. but then maybe they mean it shines with greatness, power and courage,, shines bright enough for acceptance in her hand in marriage. but no. we all know a girl's best friend is a diamond,and according to girls these days nothing shines brighter. a man with a dented armor is a man who has fought and fought well to survive the opponents in combat from depriving his life from him. so, this man with a dented armor has been through hard Times, he gained and lost friends l,had his heart broken again and again he might not look too good but his heart shines, his love is sublime, for he has learned to love without hesitation, to love with values and skips the division to think about the multiplication, you can't get to one without the other but you know what I mean.
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
knight in shining armour
It’s a beautiful game of back and forth, showing me life is merely a game too, winning or losing may have me trying, so long as you have fun on the court, playing! On occasions, I couldn’t get through you, could you lower yourself for me, Or are you asking to raise the game within me? Serving me a volley of ups and downs, making me come to the net, playing it on the rise, taking risk down the line, but, alas, life doesn’t give you an HawkEye. Opponents may be many, courts may be different, conditions may be new, keep that passion within you, for you never know when the match point is on you.
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Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 1:35 PM UTC
Vintage Volleys
The mirrors are now flush with a fog, the air grows hot from the bodies that move about the mat like acrobats, swimming through the guards and grips of their opponents’ limbs as I sit back and admire another training session at the monster gym. Sometimes I think, not too often (but occasionally) and I wonder where would I be if I had not been here- for the last two and half years of my life? What kind of person would I be had I not met all these different personalities who have wandered in and out those doors both day and night? For some this place is an escape but for me it’s become a way of life.
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Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 5:53 PM UTC
Brazilian Jiu Jitsu
An Amish elder named Mullet, And some of his ****** clan, bore hatred deep in their gullets for their Amish fellow man. ****** seemed out of the question, It’s rare among Amish, folks say, (It may be that a horse and a carriage doesn’t make for a quick getaway.) So Mullet and some of his minions Invented a new sort of crime: Shaving their bearded opponents one Amish man at a time. Losing one’s beard among Amish- A disgrace before God, it’s been said. Mullet spared no woman either choping the hair from their heads. His victims are speechless with anger, denuded of both beards and hair. Leave it to someone named “Mullet” To offend using a Barber’s chair. Mullet’s in Federal custody; charged with a crime, not a sin. He refuses to answer the charges By the hair of his chinny chin chin.
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Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 8:29 PM UTC
An Amish Hate Crime
she had an uncle who spent twenty years in the ring, landing solid blows until   he landed in a downtown Oakland hotel, older than he, wrecking ball got it in the dawn of the cyber age but for ten droning years, it was his cage he never had a title shot but he kept his belly full and had cash for the women, the drink   never drove a car, cabbies knew him and knew the smell of gin meant “keep the change”    when his legs got weak and his left eye went to blur the money stopped rolling in   but he still thirsted for the gym, the gin he got himself a gig at Big G’s   just enough hours to clean out the showers, to keep the johns from smelling of ****   and a few greenbacks comin’ his way   he would end each day alone in his room, inhaling the gloom   that seeped over the transom   like smoke from a smoldering fire   but there was no fire left in the ancient hotel   or Parrot’s burned up belly   only fading memories of a wounded warrior   who taunted his opponents by mimicking every word they said   in the ring, where he earned a bird’s name   but never its sweet song, before time took its tattered toll
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Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
Uncle Parrot
my heart is broken but open fragile but closin. my heart tht you chosen will you embed it? my stomach is turnin it is fckn hurtin. ig im overdosin... so many emotions how could you cheat. the hole in my heart my heart is explodin ig were now opponents blood is now overflowin... and now tht i think. why did i open? now im completely broken... but open.
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Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
broken open
You can tell a lot about A person by the ones he admires. Another telling factor is The people whom he inspires. Donald Trump, for example, Praises Putin, a leader who Has jailed dissenters, squashed human rights, And done away with opponents, too. After a questionable referendum, Which restricts in many ways Civil rights, the leader of Turkey, Erdoğan, received Trump's praise. Duterte of the Philippines-- Authoritarian and leading official-- Has had thousands of people killed In a manner blatantly extrajudicial. So that's his way of solving the problem Of drugs in the Philippines is it? And guess who wants the blood-thirsty, Despotic leader to come for a visit? And then there's the leader of North Korea, Kim Jong Un. Only a rookie Would say that the mad, unhinged and murderous Leader was a "pretty smart cookie." Trump's had business ties with three Of the above countries. There's no mistaking. But does this mean that a Trump Tower In Pyongyang is in the making? -by Bob B (5-3-17)
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May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC
Praising the Unpraiseworthy
Crocodiles catnapping cuddling in cordial cliques,  Loafing, lollygagging, lurking low like lounging leeches,  Protective postures pouncing prey with piercing pinned precision, Brilliant belligerent beasts basking boldly by swamp beaches,  Agressively angry attitudes among alluring adverse animals,  Deep daunting jaws of death damage drastically when dropping down,  Scales shaped like stabbing shards scrape while swimming strongly,  Opposing opposition order obedience of outrageous odious opponents,  Raged ravenous rapacious reptiles rank repulsive ratings and resourses...   ©Michael P. Smith
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Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
Crocodilian Analysis (Tongue Twister)
The Persian Chessboard as the story goes, it happend in Persia could have been India, or even in China the King was bored, so he looked for someone wiser the Grand Vizier, being the principle advisor entertain me the King said, challenge my senses I need something different, I'm tired of burning fences the Vizier scratched his chin, and stared straight ahead how about a new game, where you have to use your head we'll use moving pieces, on black and white squares the King will be the major piece, the rest nobody cares capture the opponents King, to make him surrender be careful of the others, the ones who are pretender we can call it 'shahmat', or death to the King and when this death is proclaimed, everybody sing the final move is checkmate, there will be no place to run the game sometimes in real life, the loser had no fun the pawns and the knights, each one fell to the side eventually then an added piece, the King's special bride the Queen was entered in, she also had some power she was just as deadly, cutthroat behind you in the shower the King was very pleased, he granted Vizier a treasure he told him, pick your price, anything you pleasure the Vizier tried to trick the King, he made mistake instead the game lived on and on, but the Vizier turned up dead Gomer LePoet...
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Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 1:17 PM UTC
The Persian Chessboard
When I was a boy, about ten years old I wanted to be a Ninja A killer, stone cold So I would go to my room To practice my secret moves Against imaginary opponents Who were sure to lose I would even dress all in black For the really epic fights Then throw my plastic Ninja stars And quickly turn off the lights I was a master of stealth Ready to take on the world Using my Ninja weapons To save pretty girls With wooden sword in hand And steely guts… I had to come back to reality Because mom brought home doughnuts!
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Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 5:29 AM UTC
Doughnuts of Death
There's no fulfillment in impressing  everybody, So what's the point of trying to do so, Maybe life would be easy, Because you'd have no opponents, But really,living your life impressing people and trashing your own views, Is as good as being dead, I won't waste my life living that way.
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Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 3:51 AM UTC
Impressing people
The crack in the window brings the light, beautiful to many, vile to to my sight. Can I sleep? don't remind me of what I must do. Leave me my silence, leave me my grace,leave this ***** grimy disgrace. We all should lie in obscurity. The cracks in the pavement wont break her back. If you fall , get up, if you don't break your neck. You can make it through.                                       Leave me in the distance. Recognize the light. Walk paths of fear, and acceptance takes flight. Things cloudy eyes may not see. Leave me in the distance, I'm not here to race, another dawn the darkness breaks In my opponents I see teachers, family, monsters, men and preachers. Lie in the shadows, or a darkened room. Lie in the twilight, to embrace the light. Does anything have one side? how much does it take? This is just a play, can you make it through. We all hold the pen in our hands, we all sing the tune many stories will be told, many pouring out their soul, was it love or rock and roll?
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Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 11:32 PM UTC
Window
Unapologetically Human I am **** on the mezzanine facing the darkened wet road illuminated with acrid yellow tube light better reds and blues surround towering palm trees wooden fingers of ancient giant hands buried below growing leafy green nails stretching skyward little things, orange ribbons, endless cricks and dollops bobbles and winches Spirits Play among the windmills climb to the top of trees and sing into the warm wind songs of *** and heartache as the universe ruffles along Dive head first into the opponents forehead grind the sand into his flesh with ram like resolve until the skin is red, determine to die This life is worth proving, the stars are worth gazing, and this body is worth bathing in the Maui air with naked delight The ocean calls to my heart water is a true lover whispering, kissing inescapably feminine I submerge my soul in joyful waves always the tides follow the moon like my silly heart, eclipsing both light both night both day simultaneously cycling fully the light shines and our eyes perceive shadow faces in the dark blanketed clouds the mountain gargoyles stand as titans, forgotten creatures shoulders and heads, waiting for the moon ball the ocean moon, tranquil bays the air is sweeter with you near, a distant thought cast about the horizon, the sun melting easy golden into my dreamy eye, bless my drunken lips dripping doltish songs into the friendly night Wrestling with bulls of men we kept our shirts on this time, yet blood was drawn in the sand we madly danced in the moonlight to clapping hands, kicking feet and knees the ceremonial struggle toasting the stars bottles were shared, some puffed on cigars Come surf with me in the morning or anytime the sun shines even under moonlight would I meet you and we could paddle come fill your heart with life and lust and romantic passions idyllic as freshly fallen snow undisturbed by worldly concerns be not abashed for this embrace is a natural wonder of the soul, join me, forget what words of yesterday the prophets of doom chant, we make our own tomorrow
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
We Make Our Own
Unapologetically Human I am **** on the mezzanine facing the darkened wet road illuminated with acrid yellow tube light better reds and blues surround towering palm trees wooden fingers of ancient giant hands buried below growing leafy green nails stretching skyward little things, orange ribbons, endless cricks and dollops bobbles and winches Spirits Play among the windmills climb to the top of trees and sing into the warm wind songs of *** and heartache as the universe ruffles along Dive head first into the opponents forehead grind the sand into his flesh with ram like resolve until the skin is red, determine to die This life is worth proving, the stars are worth gazing, and this body is worth bathing in the Maui air with naked delight The ocean calls to my heart water is a true lover whispering, kissing inescapably feminine I submerge my soul in joyful waves always the tides follow the moon like my silly heart, eclipsing both light both night both day simultaneously cycling fully the light shines and our eyes perceive shadow faces in the dark blanketed clouds the mountain gargoyles stand as titans, forgotten creatures shoulders and heads, waiting for the moon ball the ocean moon, tranquil bays the air is sweeter with you near, a distant thought cast about the horizon, the sun melting easy golden into my dreamy eye, bless my drunken lips dripping doltish songs into the friendly night Wrestling with bulls of men we kept our shirts on this time, yet blood was drawn in the sand we madly danced in the moonlight to clapping hands, kicking feet and knees the ceremonial struggle toasting the stars bottles were shared, some puffed on cigars Come surf with me in the morning or anytime the sun shines even under moonlight would I meet you and we could paddle come fill your heart with life and lust and romantic passions idyllic as freshly fallen snow undisturbed by worldly concerns be not abashed for this embrace is a natural wonder of the soul, join me, forget what words of yesterday the prophets of doom chant, we make our own tomorrow
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49
Usain Bolt, like a thunder bolt, Darted towards his final halt With all his might combined Pushing his opponents behind Making the world wonder if Bolt - a colt
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Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
Limerick- Usain Bolt
Her syllogisms repose trust in her adept beleaguering of unworthy opponents. Constantly in a state of lassitude for this desultory, inure world of the insouciant youth which dwells upon it's cathartic terrain, she engages not in lachrymose nor is she crestfallen for the hope of romance and it's everlasting ineffability. She is a fugacious moment of frisson embodied in a human form; a juxtaposition of the serendipitous moments that ever constantly come one after the other in a fickle wheel of steep highs and deep lows. All her life, this girl will lilt through the crossroads of her obstacles and show the world the efflorescence of her beauty. Hush don't speak lest you miss hearing the mellifluous music of her voice of fail to hear the lagniappe that is her name. She is the cynosure of human attention, the goddess and we are but her humble servants. She is innocence most rare, love most coveted. She is infinite. She is peace.
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC
She walks in callipygous beauty
ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ̀ˋ Fighters in midst of war, A war without guns and bombs so far, instead, a syringe with vaccines and drugs, Wearing PPE battledress, a little snug, Against invisible opponents, that's bizarre, They called front-liners, our star. Despite the danger ahead of them, They still chose to risk their lives, what a gem, So people stay indoor and pray, Wear masks and clean your hands every day. To our dearest front-liners, You are all the best, ever, Will we forget you? never, We will remember you forever. We love you to the core, Today and forevermore, Our precious front-liners, Let's be safe and fight this together.
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Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 12:21 PM UTC
FRONT-LINERS
The match on Sunday was matchless, For Ozzie lost to India with grace, Indian players snatched from them, Indians stole the victory so easy, But it just seemed easy in the end, Each one of the Ozzie hurlers, Couldn't even ask for the water. Virat - great was the beating! And to be credited is just not Virat, Anushka Sharma is equally credible, Had she never broken up with him, Virat Kohli would still be distracted, Against ultimate opponents Ozzies, Our team stood not a single chance, If not for his sweet vengeful courage.
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 5:42 AM UTC
Ozzie Down Under
it is done differently - more is not necessary - more of this - is too much; the kissing is an exploration - to a polar destination of virtual whiteness - to discover more than this.  the kissing is not an end in and of itself - but a fjord unexplored leading to what? yes there are many different kinds of kisses - adaptations to a changing terrain - but the face, the face, the face (not just the lips), the head entire - is the first battle in a world war where the opponents strengths and weakness are literally uncovered and shape the nature of the war of the worlds yet to come. more than kissing, it is a speech and an interrogation; an ********** revelation of fine lines and small scars, a writing of a history, a history that existed  unbeknownst to the explorer and thus interesting and dangerous - a history composed in a different time and place and almost in a vacuum - for kissing is impactful - outlines of footsteps on never before trodden lanes - but who prepared these paths in advance of my arrival, and was my arrival forecast or just imagined? first time kissing oft portrayed as excited glee - but this is a grievous error - a wild display of wasted resources - it is not to meant to be pesky single shots of damp I was here where next? it is a drawing, nay, a sculpting of map to be reproduced in limited quantity for only the map rooms of the greatest museums. each individual kiss is more than an act, but a marker connecting the previous to the future next - exactly a map drawn by an explorer - meant to be shared with others who love history, discovery and women creatures. be wary of unmarked crevasses and pools where no one has measured the depth - novice sailors without proper charts upon unfamiliar faces - too oft drown or are somehow sail as lost forever. but the notion of being the first, even if you are not the first, is so intoxicating for the brainstorming it provokes - the envisioning of more than kissing but of unlocking a new nature, creating a creation born in the intersection of two waters - where fresh waters joint the brine of the ocean - and there are untold different kinds of waters and no two terrains though similar - are ever exactly the same. here does my entry in my log - my journal - end - though the notation of than is comparative and therefore unending.
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Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 9:46 AM UTC
when kissing a woman for the first time; than
it is done differently - more is not necessary - more of this - is too much; the kissing is an exploration - to a polar destination of virtual whiteness - to discover more than this.  the kissing is not an end in and of itself - but a fjord unexplored leading to what? yes there are many different kinds of kisses - adaptations to a changing terrain - but the face, the face, the face (not just the lips), the head entire - is the first battle in a world war where the opponents strengths and weakness are literally uncovered and shape the nature of the war of the worlds yet to come. more than kissing, it is a speech and an interrogation; an ********** revelation of fine lines and small scars, a writing of a history, a history that existed  unbeknownst to the explorer and thus interesting and dangerous - a history composed in a different time and place and almost in a vacuum - for kissing is impactful - outlines of footsteps on never before trodden lanes - but who prepared these paths in advance of my arrival, and was my arrival forecast or just imagined? first time kissing oft portrayed as excited glee - but this is a grievous error - a wild display of wasted resources - it is not to meant to be pesky single shots of damp I was here where next? it is a drawing, nay, a sculpting of map to be reproduced in limited quantity for only the map rooms of the greatest museums. each individual kiss is more than an act, but a marker connecting the previous to the future next - exactly a map drawn by an explorer - meant to be shared with others who love history, discovery and women creatures. be wary of unmarked crevasses and pools where no one has measured the depth - novice sailors without proper charts upon unfamiliar faces - too oft drown or are somehow sail as lost forever. but the notion of being the first, even if you are not the first, is so intoxicating for the brainstorming it provokes - the envisioning of more than kissing but of unlocking a new nature, creating a creation born in the intersection of two waters - where fresh waters joint the brine of the ocean - and there are untold different kinds of waters and no two terrains though similar - are ever exactly the same. here does my entry in my log - my journal - end - though the notation of than is comparative and therefore unending.
Continue reading...
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Unexplained rivals and verbal confrontations first contact as opponents and second as curious strangers exchanging smiles and bewitchingly smitten by the lock of our eyes. Equally being matched as conversations proceed Are you friend or foe? Tell me, how shall I judge you? Or shall I not judge at all? Many mistakes were made by judgements and lessons learned, Life would be so simple if we forgive and forget, Yet many don't do as we do
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Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 3:43 PM UTC
Cover of a Book