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Normal 0 Once upon a time, there was a terrible crash. It was a terrible crash. All the people cried out, but no good spirits could hear them. In the night of '99 my mother told me it was bedtime, and so I slept… as a baby. And when I woke, for my mother had spoke that the turtle had choked, and rightfully so, I wept like a baby.
This, my friend; is not meant to be read as poetry, but rather as a poem… written by 70 year old lady, or rather a 17 year old baby. You decide.
Now this, my friend is your final fate, accept it as a humble librarian accepts a book that is late. Your father in heaven is gracious to you, and loves you as his own.
Make him yours, and accept this priceless gift he offers of glorious salvation. Amen.