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12:51, time for lunch, What shall we have today? Made a sandwich; about to pour my tea, When the whole world begins to sway under me. 6.2 goes on for ever, Time to move to a sturdy doorframe, Two rooms are skewed at awkward angles, Will anything ever be the same? 185 didn’t make it that day, The dust and rubble covered where they lay, A city in ruins, history destroyed at a stroke Hearts and morale left all tattered and broke. Red and black spirit arises, stands tall, Trouble and disaster bring out the best in us all, Student armies and neighbours are quick to volunteer , Liquefaction’s stinking sand and mud to clear. To rebuild the city, make it a modern place, A functional heart; maintaining its former art and grace, Stronger in both build and community ties, Always remembering those who sadly paid with their lives. |