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the cracked sky blares crooked and the well is dry there are children in the dust they all sing a scattered song their words are diffused, they corrode like rust. a dead sparrow's bones don't lie - a reflection of the sky - the earth a slim used up man with a pocketfull of wicked fingers knows the road yet casually lingers his feet licking the sand no shadows now to crouch salvation, all is well and all is wise.
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1/26/2021 12:03:56 PM # 1.0.0.442