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The Desperate

The world is not my maker. The logic it decrees. When I can’t see the burning forest For the flaming trees. I long to fix its problems, In this my desperate plea: The rich don’t care for those who live In crushing poverty. I long to lose this baggage, That hangs beneath my eyes. It threatens to corrupt my faith Through those whom I despise. The world is not my oyster, If only this I knew. I’m just some guy who writes his poems; There’s nothing I can do.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 4/27/2009 2:46:00 PM
very direct clear forceful BUT you do ...do something by writing..Love ya
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Date: 4/23/2009 1:28:00 PM
Youni, Perfect! (Big Smile) Lovingly, Dane
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Date: 4/23/2009 9:42:00 AM
The content shows you passion. It has rythum. What it says to me is that ...the small guy gets runover and dishonest folks buy their way to the top. ..??? It's a good poem. check mail.
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Date: 4/20/2009 12:42:00 PM
Ok you want to rise above all the tumult so you have a clear view, yes, but why would "the world want to watch you fall?" almost everyone strays from "their..correct and choicen path...most people understand all to well a fall from "grace" "Because I couldn't stop." totally understandable...perhaps..like this..no no check soup mail.
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Date: 4/20/2009 7:51:00 AM
Brilliant my friend!! Excellent flow and rhyming, and a compelling message... Best wishes, Keith
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Date: 4/20/2009 6:15:00 AM
Note: Last line read 'smite my family' prior to changing.
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Date: 4/20/2009 6:03:00 AM
smite your family??? fret? Light & Love
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