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No such thing as flawless, perfect, peerless; Only fallen varmints grubbing helpless, Guided by old books to find redemption And some vindication from above.   Perfect spirits all alike and charming,
If the world were to end tomorrow I’d spend my last hours with the universal language.   If I lost my hearing tomorrow I’d spend today Listening to Forever and Always by Parachute,
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Poetry is everywhere it is in the air the wind the sky and the pines. Poetry laces the world it is the dust of the universe. The stars in the night sky are poetry,
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