There is a plume of smoke. Wispy and nascent and twirling
Sign of an amateur fire; made of orange pipe and cloudy water
We are closing! Now and early!
The wood in room 106, Sam's office, has warped
It has quickly sloughed off years of laminate and grim and oils
It tells boring stories of meetings and confidential conversations you know nothing about
This used to be a shoe factory. The heat then soaked leather and twine
Now, it ruins meetings and appreciate it.
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