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Below is the poem entitled Sipe which was written by poet Kenneth Quinney. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Sometimes it feels like the weight of eternity rests squarely upon my shoulders, 
much like Atlas' carrying of the world. Little things slip my mind and are easily 
recalled, while larger matters retreat to the Abyss itself. Do I dare depend upon 
the fragile minds surrounding me in those times I cannot be completely self-
reliant? So much responsibility, so little time to accomplish everything! Such 
disgusting mortal weakness…


I remember the times of my youth, such bright carefree times. Dancing in the soft 
sweet grass under a charcoal sky dotted by distant points of brilliant light. The 
scent of roses in full bloom, bequeathing their delicate perfume to the cool night 
air. Children leaping into the lake, fishing on its banks. How I long to return to 
such simpler times! Days of innocence, lost to eternity…


I know how to frighten an adult and terrify a young child with nothing more than a 
few words. I can use words to heal, words to dazzle and mystify. I can listen, 
understand, imagine, and empathize for comfort of others or furthering my own 
whims. When did I learn such power? I've always had it, in some form for as long 
as I can recall. Is it some divine gift or the self-delusions of an aspiring writer..?


Scenes of hate, anger, and death every night on the news. I'd rather not feel pure 
dark cold radiating from my bones, numbing my body. Desensitizing me to 
scenes of gore-spattered pavement, chunks of twisted metal, pools of crimson 
blood, bits of discolored flesh, copper flames and black thick smoke billowing 
from the wreckage. I don't want to feel pain, or to cry no more, the hot salty fluid 
splashing down my cheeks and dripping off the end of my nose…

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