Dreaming
Will poems to my dull senses rise,
In plainer garb, or apt disguise?
Can turn of phrase else serve an end,
To vanquish foes or win a friend?
What ardor gains a rhyme’s release,
To grant me treasured moment’s peace?
Or is it merely hubris’ child,
That lets me dream I’m Oscar Wilde!
2nd Place, Best Poetic Form, Poet Destroyer A
Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2013
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