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Tuesday, November 18, 2008

black poetry



Black poetry

 

Blank verse

Terse junk

Thick trunk

Sunk metaphor

Oozing creation

Dished up as art

For nothing other

Then wishing to be

In something different

Every time the hurt

Strikes up the past

To last as long as

It endures

The cures

Make vicious

The kind



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