AND IT WAS

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AND IT WAS

There was time when darkness consumed
the mind of a young, not yet bloomed.
Backed in a corner of a cold blooded room.
As the young gets older, the room never thaws out,
and the thoughts start traveling from house to house.
 Like demons in the mist in the pits of hell, whispers in the ear of iced  stories to tell.

The thoughts keep moving, getting stronger and stonger. Searching and searching to feed the hunger.  Out the house amongst theives in the night , Mansions and Mansions of  those non alike.  Cold heart, cold blooded from the inside out. Mass destruction carried about.  What can be done to calm it down?Terror is coming, born in your town.

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When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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