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Volcanoes

My body is a vast plain
And covering it
Are millions of volcanoes.

The snow caped mountains
Grow taller everyday.
They make the land cracked and bumpy.

When the volcanoes explode
And the white caps have gone
Scarlet liquid pours from the spout.

The plains feel pain.
The ground is squeezed
And picked at.

Rain often falls upon the scene
But to no avail.
The volcanoes continue to appear.

Even soft sleet
Can’t cool the jets
Of an active volcano.

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