Astronauts Are We
P Patti Masterman
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Astronauts are we:
Discovering the quantum coventry,
Floating around on wings that be
Designed of man's futility.
Sun of night:
Sum of stark humanity's blight,
Mushroom cloud of blinding light
Maelstrom birth, our contusive flight.
Broken chains:
As we hurtled many moons away,
Bodies lost, of our poor outcast clay
Final proof, that mankind's gone astray.
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