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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #1014868 |   |
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A soul is for sale,
Who will bid... The sale could easily Be explained, they said. A barter, a trade, Not so bad... It's not like anyone Would really be sad. It's the boy who won't Bend or twist... Be wants more for himself, He shows a tight fist. He suddenly falls, Fist still tight... But the sale rambles on, a pitiful sight. He struggles to rise, Needs a hand... A bidder leans forward- Salvation unplanned.
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