June 18, 2009

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    June 18, 2009

    I.

     

    I must leave

    This crowded hallway

    The commotion is too much

    For my sensitive ears.

     

    II.

     

    And her and her friend

    Drive away from the bar

    To go to the next one

    Where the boys play.

     

    I stay in my fort

    Where the letters I write

    I hope will reach somewhere

    Where the girls play.

     

    III.

     

    My lady is the pen

    We dance every night

    And she sings along

    To the music I make.

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    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

    bryanpaul86’s Poems (23)

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