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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 316th. week

A staple it is said, a lie to be pierced, a hole we get.
Rubbish and garbage, to pile up and up, a woman's face made of.
Between a mother and a grandmother, in the center of, a father stays.
The criminal, same numbers of forty having no delusions, faces he has.
The equinoctial week's over, on the bowl of rice, a runny nose put on.

composed by them.

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