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The mumbled annoyances of abandoned brides,
With pretentious dogs, trotting along false tides,
The reeling minds of hopeful star-gazers,
Tearful goodbyes and stuttered 'see you laters'.
Electric grass that stains ones feet,
The creaking sounds of old bench seats,
Crawling ants, and creeping spiders,
On trees that climb, higher and higher,
Anonymous patters, coming from nowhere,
Then there's fallen angels, but nobody to care
One day can see, so many scenes,
All taking place on our very own greens.
By Gabrielle Fullam, age 12
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