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March 10, 2014
She will beat my brow
and find comfort in saying
the repeated lines
that on her mind weighing.
She will tell a tale
of injustice and hurt
that sticks in her head
like a cloud of dirt.
She will plead assurance
that she wasn’t to blame,
but I find her excuses
are far too lame.
The harm so deep
it severed a nerve,
and away from the subject
I try to swerve.
But she won’t be swayed
and the long lament
must be repeated verbatim
and is set in cement.
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