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Polyester
I woke to the sound of a whistling train
In a small town where sunflowers still reigned
Where light still peaked through torn shades
And reflected like radio waves off the water down by the glade
I woke where ghosts still roamed the land
And the mountains never seemed so grand
My heavy eyes slowly opened and I gazed
At the familiar wooden planks, still dazed
The dusty, humid air created a mirage of particles
And for a moment, I thought I saw those dreaded articles
Those bloody pieces of polyester
Left to rot and fester
Permeable fabric
Worn by havoc
I can still hear the screaming
And feel my tears streaming
He broke my bones and my spirit
But I learned not to fear it
Those gleaming eyes
And my muffled cries
Oh what a tragic demise
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