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Living in the modern age, Death for virtue is the wage. So it seems in darker hours. Evil wins, kindness cowers.
Ruled by violence and vice. We all stand upon thin ice. Are we brave or are we mice, Here upon such thin, thin ice?
Dare we linger, dare we sate? Dare we laugh or celebrate? Knowing we may strain the ice? Preserve the ice at any price?
(c) 2001 by Dean Koontz
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Apr 3, 2008
1:38 PM
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wow, I felt like I was reading my textbook lol. that was deep, and I felt what you were saying on every level, I wrote a poem[much more juvenile of course] that could be it's younger brother called 'The New Age'..spooky.
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May 15, 2008
10:19 AM
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