Trevor Morse Poet I do not know?

Amongst the Shadows

There amongst the shadows,
a masterful elucidation
of melancholic glee.

While the winds of change
take hold of thee, for
the splendor and eyes
of every many.

For the gentle whore
whose troubles woe,
perchance a cup
of pennyroyal tea.

For upon the throne
of harlotry, a gentle 
courtship, spoken
cordially a many
young man. . . "of
thee, plenty. . . ."

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