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    20 Jul 2005

    He sits behind a wired vale
    And watches as we weave a tale
    Of political rants and wanton lust,
    Colored tattoos, or love gone bust

    Thoughts written down in solitude
    Liberated as they are viewed
    Exposed to the impudent and innocent
    To angels and to demons hell bent

    From Williamís Isle and Dingapore
    To Golden Gate and Aussie shore
    A signature, an avatar
    We confess to unseen friends afar

    unfinished poem