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The Day That No One Died By Stone Bryson
The horse fell on the range… I kicked him once or twice, just to make a point, echoes you can’t arrange...... the jackknife of the past begins to cut so deep you wish that you would crack… mistakes that won’t retract. You can’t… retreat… you cannot run and hide. History… repeats… like the day that no one died.
An oil-spill lays to waste … I splashed around in it, 'cause it’s what I deserve, voices so ripe they taste...... the bloodstains of the past which flow so freely that you wish that you could fly… effects that never lie. You can’t… escape… you cannot turn the tide. Future… reshaped… like the day that no one died.
Copyright © 2007 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved. Written September 2007
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