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Tantalus

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Sentenced to surface, to bob--
To float but not to feel
And to misplace my sacred fishes
On poles I cannot reel

Sweetened fruit a fiendish fruit,
An imp with timely feet
Scratches fingers, with such joy,
Relishing defeat

Ripples elevate-- and retract
And deserts never grace
Nor shall they cleanse the crevices
Of my a-paling face




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Thesilentraven This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jul. 2, 2011 at 4:20 pm:
Goodness, memories of your eloquence have been washed away from my mind, by the tide of unmarked time.
 
Thesilentraven This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Jul. 2, 2011 at 4:23 pm :
Reading this, I feel like you gave Tantalus a voice which could never have been heard from his story (which is so often told apathetically). And it's a sad voice. A quiet voice. A hopeless voice. And through your precision with every syllable and creativity with rhyme and reason, you gave a voice to the suffering! A remarkable outcome, London Eye.
 
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