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The rain fell like drops without sound.

the color of grey streak across the sky.

The pale color of pink across the horizon.

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Thick drakes sorrounding oak trees from below.

yet the trunks are full of hollows.

Bounders hits the ground with a thud.

the grounds stand full of mixing mud.

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Sounds from shotguns heard from afar.

lousy mens running shouting orders.

Dashing across between borders.

rains draping down their hairs.
It's NOT a story. It's a freaking poem.