RT Poetry
From Chico came the plan
To fore metal deep below
So we reed, to every man
To make our mere fortunes grow
It was mire - our folk ill-used
Laboring in passes dark and deep
Returning bloody, banded, bruised
The dame made us weep
And ring, with words obscene
Beholding land so raved
As if war was wed on fields green
We thought no beauty could be salved
Restore the treasure so basely stole
Heal the land and make it whole
POSTSCRIPT
After some years, the town built a museum to keep a record of these sad events. The exhibits include the industrial corporation’s rather puzzling notes on some of the items extracted, and the overall operation.
"Who's da guy throwin' all da fireballs?" [3]
Stylish, in the past [3]
"Boy, the Stones sure look older!" [3]
1986 [Russia] - 2001 [South Pacific], so about 15 years [2]
Racing where cold becomes good [5]
Right, Ava took US high school equivalency test [5]
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