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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Not about how you caused the accident, but how you can make it better.

Submitted: April 17, 2011

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Submitted: April 17, 2011



In the shrine near designated desire, fallout breaks in the midst of embroiled turmoil.

Derived from dire, concentrated for cosmic inquire, seizing swarmed empire.

Setting thoughts on fire, racing crops for hire, scamping in the dampest swamp, dripping like a mop.

Falling having scalded from teeming streams onset of drought, some people pay to embark inside a water-park.

Dodging droplets of rainfall, mustering up denying screams when pain crawls, discard acquiescing smears, perceiver cleanse mending the descent.

Spry to a fickle in the sky, painted bray releasing intuitive pray on behalf of an inexcusable escapade.

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