Rock, Paper, ScissorsA Poem by PeteThe lichen on the rocks is a rude and simple shield which beginning and imperfect nature suspended there. Still hangs her wrinkled trophy. - Thoreaufirst you whipped out two slicing digits
i flung a sheet of five then came a fist of basalt no one won © 2023 PeteAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on September 20, 2023 Last Updated on September 22, 2023 |

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