15 thoughts on “This is the way poetry month ends

  1. What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
    Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
    You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
    A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
    And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
    And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
    There is shadow under this red rock,
    (Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
    And I will show you something different from either
    Your shadow at morning striding behind you
    Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
    I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

    1. As one who used to program these signs, I can say that the password is usually 4 characters, almost always either 1-2-3-4 or 0-0-0-0. Still, likelihood of inside job=100%

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