Eye of the Stom

The Justice waved her wand.

On her face she wore a frown.

I asked if I could speak.

She gave a nod, I laid it down.

There was this awful thing.

A prejudgemetal kind of vibe.

But when I told the truth.

She knew the others lied.

She left and then returned.

The air changed cool to warm.

That’s where time stands still.

At the eye of the storm.

Dennis Mantin

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