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I found a poem I wrote the first time I tripped... it was on 4th of July and I was in my backyard.
Thinning haze sliding under
rib cage to an anguished skull face
fist clenched palm up
to the sky as thunder rumbles beyond the stars and
fireworks of fireflies explode
against silhouttes of trees
like thunder rumbling
-------------------- Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot. - Niel Gaiman