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Apathetic Dreamscape

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Sometimes I wish that I could stop my pen
From saying what ought not too soon be said
And often what should ne’er be said again.

I wonder where my pen might have me led
If I had not the power to stop.
Again, its ramblings only I have fed.

To Guernica perhaps I might now drop.
The sounds of gunfire ringing through the night.
All screams now as they see the neighbor’s shop.

Crimson ribbons shine upon the glass.
Such beauty in this peril may surpass
The terror of the men who breathe their last.

But pen, why show me now this horrid fright?
What can one man do ‘gainst dark Death’s great might?



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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

ShenelleCrystalx3 said...
Jun. 18, 2010 at 4:24 pm:

That was so good !  Don't ever stop  writing :)

Please come and check out my poems [comment or rate] Thank u

 
wdickinson This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Jun. 26, 2010 at 9:57 pm :
thanks so much.  I hadn't gotten any feedback so I was worried.  The positive reinforcement really helps!  And I could never stop writing even if I wanted to! :)
 
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