That tall metal shard should stand tall, and yet it quivers like a fricking dog which stands In an earthquake that it will soon forget. Both scream for rescue from the sinking sands. Then down! The shard, it twirls, it drops. It fails to float, falls short of the white swan; she can die with grace, why can’t it stay up? And not trail on the floor, crash like dropped cymbals, I cry.
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