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By Bobby Russ (1996)

A day filled with gloom
and Images of dismal doom.
He steps up with a smile
to face an enemy so very vile.
Speak may I to the cruel beast
who wishes to make hope its feast?
Closing down all levels of trust
until it is nothing, but a little dust.
A battle is lost and so is some hope -
He stands up and attempts to cope.
"Nevermore shall I fall," he yells
as it rings its dinner bells.
Feasting it shall do.
Turning everything a blue hue.
Trust not in anyone's word
For liars are all around like a sheep's herd.
The best it wants not for you
Desires for you to be blue.
Forever shall it attack the two
Until kill it they so do.

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