If Poetry Were War
If poetry were war
The form would not portray
Rhyme nor reason
The writer is possessed
By a corrupted muse
Who knows no shame
Thirsting for a power
A need to conquer all
Even to death
The loud and ranting words
Lies to achieve an end
Hidden agendas
If poetry were war
The poem would have no end
Just endless lies
Copyright © Gary Jones | Year Posted 2007
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