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Replying to a comment on:
On the Discovery of High Noon and The Devil in a Glass Jar. (Limerick) by MacFrantic Whenever I think of the West
It reminds me of times of unrest
When a young, bleeding man
With a six-gun in hand
Harbors doubts that he's truly the best
I found Satan out in my yard
He demanded my soul I discard
I remained unafraid
For he threatened and brayed
From within his wee hell, tightly jarred
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