Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Verse: Umour

(Shamelessly built upon ideas by Jacques Vaché)

So begins
this folly

a desertion
from within

distinguished
as I am by
my disservice
how may I
be of help

when spectacles
of sparkle
deprive us of
our ability
to imagine
to dream

rendered
as one dimensional
as they are
what am I
to do?

Perhaps
I could loose
a new spirit
one free
of criticism
where only negation
is omitted

I will be
a punk
and start
the overthrow
take comfort
in sneers
of disapproval

one last trick
before I disappear
the goodbye
in my hello
is implied

and I
have nothing
to say

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