Go Green, Save Green
an excerpt from a poem by Ed Blair
The antique clock sits on the shelf,
One taller, on the floor,
Depending on the patterns then
One Hundred years or more!
The dishes, marked by tripods, now
Show they were served with care,
Those pattern of the long ago,
How precious now and rare!
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I was sitting alone writing, crying.
Going over what was being reveled to me. I looked at the page before me, it hurt to continue. I felt as if I could I would throw up any moment. I knew I wouldn't though. That would be too easy. The page was littered with tear droplets and globs of drool and snot.
I sa