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My Twentieth Year - 11. wherewithal
Poem No. 27
In the mist, I think I can faintly see
a vision that perhaps is of me,
but since I know myself not at all,
in mystery it lies with my wherewithal.
Poem No. 28
Loneliness' song is slow but sweet,
its voice, ever-constant, eternal –
Through the history of Man, its beat
pulls us to ourselves most fraternal.
Poem No. 29
The night the poems died
it happened all once
everything just shriveled up inside
all of it, at once.
It wasn’t as painful
as one would think
but then, I've forgotten that pitiful
can lead you to the brink.
I wasn't prepared to face the truth
I'd rather lie and make believe
and with my soul strike a truce,
but, that I can't, I want to believe.
Malingerant coward that am I
to hope I could cower and die
what a sick and pain-filled lie
because all I can do, is sigh.
- 6
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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