When I find my garden path has grown small piles of sand
Does a wondrous conurbation sprawl beneath my feet?
I hesitate to go to war and force them to disband
or ant-ish archaeology protected by concrete?
Is this is their world, and I the brute who doesn't understand?
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It never fails to disappoint...
Warning: Amphigorical Content!
grubby grists of euphuistic prolixity
i think i prefer a.a.milne
Recycling
An occasional attempt to use up those spare words left over at the end of each day.
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