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Title: rot Author: Wrangwar
The feeling in the room Coming down too soon It's all gone to roses Why take the chance? Step sideways, not forward The way of avoidance Concrete foundation Not shaken but stirred Tread lightly on broken glass Pestles and powders The grass will not grow Sand will always eat soil Retaliation inevitable He's backed into a corner Adjacent to your own But the bell will not ring The canary won't sing The stew cools to room temperature It takes to mold and rots Comments on "rot"
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