.Links.

Thank you to the sites that aided my research, and to the people that helped provide information.

 Bobbing and sw  a ying
				She
					Won't 
						D  r  o  w  n 

 Flaking off from her mind
				The memories, like i ce, chip
		They fall into the ground
	Waiting for some fine spring day
								to melt.
			The water is pu ll e d over her head
					rumbles and bumbles overhead
Until the rain falls back down
						And freezes up again.
											~Meg 

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