The Inkwell
from inkdrop – poetry, places and events
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Category: Exhibits
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The wreckage that built up was left in the sand till one day a man from museum had plans
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Little Old Red is resting, he’s done its best. When the world was at war, and bombs fell to the floor These crafty bombs made fire over concrete and grass so firecrews met round him to work they’d amass. Putting out fires and protecting from damage, A meal th’crew would eat was the most they…
The Inkwell 