Sunday, August 22, 2010

The Dead Poets Workshop

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in sheer darkness
of my mind
words thrive live
they are poor
squatters
held by a breath
nurtured by a whiff
they escape
through
the sewer
of my mind
as a street poem
on cyber space
they relive

if
i use the same words
over and over again
BE HUMAN
live let live
my aberrations
on the soul
of your poetry
DO FORGIVE


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