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Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Bright lights noise and people
Kites flying in the midnight sky
As I march from the church's steeple

Waiting for a cry for help
Once it came I dived into flight so hight
Through a door I crashed with an accompanying yelp

As an old enemy rose and smiled
Picked up a pen and signed my name in blood
I collapsed to the floor, helpless, with a heavy thud

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