Stepping back to view his work,
The master craftsman duly gloats.
No other has the skill,
Perhaps none ever will.
Amidst this proud preening glee
He spots something as it should not be
A crack, a split a great divide,
A blemish on his statues side.
He grips his hair and shakes it out
Rubs his eyes and rubs his mouth
Selects a mallet and casts it down
Smashing the statue to the ground.





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Algocracy and the Transhumanist Project

The future of governance and values in the post-human era

Limerick Writers' Centre

Supporting Literature, Arts and Culture in Limerick since 2008.

NUIG Writers' Society

NUIG's society for exploring each other's writing in a welcoming environment.

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