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A Cold Death

They all hold a stick With a fire in the middle The ice is still slick The fire is going down a little One wanted to put down the stick But didn't want to Because these people's darkness is making him sick He's starting to get the flu One rich loner Remembering his wealth Now moaning And getting low on health Everyone died no doubt Not the cold within But the cold without Fools you now have sinned

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

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