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Glowing Hot Like Incense

If my head wasn't glowing hot like jade dragon incense I'd drink half that handle of Jack And lament the endless repetition of history. The calousness with which Men go to their deaths Loving others little, but loving themselves so much. This reality is the broken heart of the poet, given eyes which won't shut Given a mouth which can't be heard and always that love which can't be returned.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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