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Etchings
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General Now and then, in spare moments,
I paint a word picture,
a stroke at a time.
Distant moments, distant thoughts
guide my touch, gently, I hope.
Yet, from deep within my conscience,
the lightning flashes,
my words shake,
and the axis of my world trembles.
My picture is only a word
recorded for the moment.
A hundred years from now,
no one will ever know,
or care.
