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poetry

“Flowers & Pain, Honor & Disdain”

“poem dedicated to Shakespeare”

In the dark old Southern Moonlight,

It t’was there betwixt the Stars.

It shown upon their faces,

which rose high in steep alarm.

Itaque, again we must wonder,

still in our brief repose.

The pain which we hold that,

it seems nobody knows.

This brush and this pen kept,

us both safe once again,

the scars and old wounds,

reopen never to mend…

I have to keep fighting,

pray this is not the end…

For if I should perish,

please my Honor, defend….

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