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  • Sadness

    TIME LINE

    Death had clung with steely fingers
    Far too long,
    Refusing to relinquish its cruel grip,
    On the spur of the moment.
    As swift as the arrows of uncertainty,
    It has transformed those bright days
    Into seconds, minutes, hours, days, months and years
    of dark, and soggy gloom.
    And of sonorous calm.
    Exuding an ambience of timelessness.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    nelsony’s Poems (1)

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