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Fearful Heads
The heads of the high and mighty
must be filled with dread.
They must be looking behind them
to see who wants them dead.
They wear the crowns of sparkling gems
and look down from their thrones.
They send their tax collectors out
to steal from weary bones.
But tired bones can gather strength
and somehow find a way
to keep those heads filled with dread
forever and a day.
poem
by
Edwina Reizer
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