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The Past is Past
The past is gone
As a matter of fact
The mistakes I made
Forgiven, unto Gods' eyes
Why must I be put
To scrutiny
By the ones' who are
Really guilty
I want this position
As a keeper of hearts
To clean the mess
Left only for me
I've traveled that road before
Until I, alone, clashed heads with the boss
Cursed her up and down
Then, apologized
With a sign of the cross
poem
by
Matt Mondschein
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