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poetry is dead enough read
Poetry is dead
funeraled upon a pulpit’s breath lament
It does not breathe nor
to have a creed Poetry is not real its fed
Sought after and vetted
Good by so long Never mind in stanza’s
we mensch
I wont babble no more...
funeraled upon a pulpit’s breath lament
It does not breathe nor
to have a creed Poetry is not real its fed
Sought after and vetted
Good by so long Never mind in stanza’s
we mensch
I wont babble no more...
