Friday, July 30, 2010

A Poets Pain

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i sleep
i wake up
with the
silhouette
of a dagger
on my throat
a poet
in the garb
of a sacrificial goat
to smote
finally when
the hour comes
will be remembered
for the losing
battle
he fought
in a world
of the bank note
a poets life
a sorrow bound
to a lyrical
lost note
pain
he memorized
it by rote
holding
to a blog
a straw
helplessly
kept him
afloat

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