Bards Thoughts
Slept and slumbered under the quinine stains we wept,
On a poignant bard’s weary nib we slept.
Yearned we to spill on to paper,
Him caged sore thoughts for later.
Weeping words we lay folded,
On table, heart moulded.
Sorrowed dirge lament,We repent,..................dissent
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