CHANNILLO
Why Poetry is Sad > Happy (preview poem)
Series Info | Table of Contents
At times all I have is my rage
That, and the blank of a page
So if I can, I hold it all in
Until I find paper and pen
At times all I have is my sorrow
That, and the dread of the morrow
So I rest my tired eyes
Upon long narrow lines
At times all I have is my bliss
And it is then,
That I do not write
But instead live
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