Poem -

Perfection

Six score of 300 stand,
and in 12 strikes
six score fall.

For eternity must survive alone
as witness to the destruction...
As if destined to condone
despite the calculated purging...

None are spared in its wake,
none left stranded by the gutters.
And the cheers of men echo in the alley.
Determined to win the day.

It is, after all, perfection they say.

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