In Memory

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Blue ButterflyIn Memory of Lou
  I seem to have this strange obsession with Fire It burns It melts things It destroys It creates It is The Epitome of My mother My mother smokes newports
Tock Tock Wash your hands.  Remember: paper, lines, game.  Paper: history, English  O.  Did I lock my car? Memorize your lines Rehearsal rehearsal rehearsal. 
Caught off guard; Shock held silent grip; A few sniffles emerged; Red cups in a fence with a bouquet Spelling the words RIP Spez. For the first time Teachers sobed openly in front
A tiny baby, not a month old The subject of a story that need be told. Born in a country far away, Now in Heaven with God to stay. Brand new mother & father so proud,
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