Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #6                         Page 19
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The truth is
We were all to blame
We wanted it
More than anything
We had ever
Known before
Then let it grow
Way beyond its bounds
And killing it
Took everything we had

We knew
Our days
Were numbered
As the truck rolled
Through the town
And we saw the rows
Of cold
And silent children
Lined up along the streets
Watching us
Pass by

And sometimes
It seemed
The thing was still alive
And banging up
Against the sides
But we just kept on going
Looking straight ahead
Until we reached
The dead eyed
Weeping ground
And buried it
In concrete
One hundred
Meters down

  William Corner Clarke