Flesh Of The World's Flesh
P Patti Masterman
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Flesh of the world's flesh;
Seething sea of wriggling bodies-
All breathing in breaths,
All hiding from deaths.
Looking out a single eye;
Thinking thoughts to ponder why
They have to lay them down and die;
In countless graves, the bones will lie.
Still and cold as earth below,
When the winter season's come;
When the gales of winter blow,
And the trees all bare their boughs.
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