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Four hundered ninety


As it sounds sad
For a reason
I can't understand
Even after I extended them
A helping hand
Also a good Samaritan
I shook off their dust
And pulled them up
From the sand,
There are people
Who do  me
Things bad
"Do good to s/he
Who did  you
Things bad!"
On its head stand.

But up on
A bit reflection
Something bubbles up
To my attention
Despite His

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