Poetry Soup Second To Just Nobel

Before me sight I Halting Dump And I need to over it jump. If my zeal be crushed into powder, You wouldn’t see a face prouder. Just asking that you retain The Lamp That makes A Champ of An Agreed Tramp; A firm will gives one to start chasing After what Life holds in its casing. Three years back uploaded not a verse And the picture now a sweet reverse; What if I’d lost to The Tightening; Last air suck in face whitening? Troublesome corpse after interment, Quarrelsome Grave of heard rude comment, The sky causing to be cloudier, Disorganized systems rowdier… Poetry Soup: second to just Nobel! Why should I care if others rebel?