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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 499th. week

On Fridays, taking out a few heads, because of the rubbish days.
The door knocked by someone, in the night it's rainy, the same voice I hear.
Having nothing, the old getting kicked out, the day it is.
The man as his good match, easily by the other, shot through.
In the fly formation, the girl also today, droppin' by her parachute.

composed by them.

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