The evening stars will modify,
what you can't see,
with your blind eye.

The negatives- came back blank,
and multiplied,
the human rank.

The days starting to drift long,
over seas,
the faithful gong.

It rings out to all who'll hear,
deafening,
the sound quite clear.

A little girl sits and waits,
for mother dear,
to lift the weights.

All day long she sits and stares,
But nobody,
wants to care.
 
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