Men
Thus the solitary man
wept for a lack of dragons,
the inferior man gathered
all his salty tears
in a bowl of pure gold,
the middle man
sold his intentions
to anyone,
the observer saw it all
breaking into
less than one man
ever can put together.
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2011-04-14 at 23:11
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Ferenc Inigo Beck |
Texts |
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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