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    corvus
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

Poems - 4. Shame

Witness the great man in this hour—
A proud man and his intolerable tears,
With the fool’s mark hung around his ears.
The rich ochre of his virtue is faded,
And the crown-bearing trumpeter dead.
Witness the great man now fallen,
Stripped, lashed, bewildered by himself;
The vain cannot bear to look upon themselves.
Poor man! The world pens him in his mind
And blows his nakedness with a gay wind.
Now witness the slop-dished, half-mad mouths
From whom the king beseeches gentle mercy—
The king watches beggars with his eyes, secretly;
A soft word from crazed mouths, secretly.

Copyright © 2010 corvus; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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Shame is another of those power words. It can be something we do to ourselves and something done to us by others. It can even be amusement, both teasing or cruel. This poem seems to be about how the mighty have fallen. By their own hand. It is also about the lowest common denominator.

 

 

A soft word from crazed mouths, secretly... We all hope even in vain.

 

 

A disturbing poem because... The vain cannot bear to look upon themselves.

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