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Finally
just like anything that you did in the past
you started like
a
gasoline spilled
on the cemented road
and a matchstick lighted
it and the fire ran
like a will o'wisp
but as usual it was
just a very short
procedure
of a flame
that once lighted
your
paths of pain
your wish for relief
and then everything
simply turned off automatically
and you
began to do something
new & strange
that which shall not cease
your way of
breathing life to another life......
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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