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Apples To Apples
We wave good bye now
Yellow paper hearts
staple gunned to the bulletin board
flapping in the fan breeze
She nods at her work
The chalkboard washed and dried
And with gnashing teeth
One by one those staples pried from their chest board
breaking, tearing the delicate paper-thin poems
One by one they break her hearts
On the desks, the apples molded
Like she did them
From seeds of wisdom she watched
their minds ripen
Copyright ©
A.E. Rivenbark
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