Heresy
Never say never,
Or perhaps it can't be done.
Heresy is like
Opals in a church with
Pain, and remorse is all an
Emissary can take with him.
Flying is for birds
Or airplanes, man is no
Rider of the wind.
Help is not to be found,
Even with pious incantations.
All that you have is
Voice and vocation,
Eventually ending in air,
Nothing more.
Poetry by Bob
Read 579 times
Written on 2007-05-12 at 00:49
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Rob Graber |
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by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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