credit crunch

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  • Political

    credit crunch

    The money has dried to a finite end
    Like a dripping tap that nobody mends.
    Did no one hear it?
    No warning call?
    Did no one see it
    Drop out of the hole?
    Instead it has gone.
    How can we replace
    The money that squandered
    A whole human race?

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    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    withwoman’s Poems (2)

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    credit crunch 0
    night 1

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