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BAD BARD POETRY
Falling
I slipped and fell
Jarred,
Stretched on a cold damp pavement
Above me the night sky unfurled
Penetrating
Beckoning
Broadcasting its wonder
Shining Upon this speck
Upon a speck,
These fragments of itself.
Observing our pitiful catastrophes
Reflecting its indifference
Heralding its endless promise.
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