A slender piece of metal hung,
ceremonious in its stance.
Its face reflected thousand fold
on faces distinct from its.
It warned of sins and future times,
though rusty was its border.
It stood there day by day, until,
some idiot changed one number.
So, on some random day I drive
and see the number ninety-five.
Surprised was I when blue lights shone,
my face alight with fear.
He handed me a note and said,
“You can’t do that here.”
And when he left, I backed the car,
got out, and took my tools.
And to this day it stands atop
my mantelpiece, a jewel.


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