By Eric Blaire
You can call me a pacifist, if you like.
I mind my own work, not straining anyone.
I grow, just like you. I die, just like you.
Yet God saw it fit that tragedy should strike.
A metal beast crashed into me. I died.
After that I withered away, and was a tree no more…
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Get out of dodge
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