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The Truth Commands

Yes, I’m a Poet, but I refuse to be tormented I refuse to be a victim, with my words made out of stone I refuse to bleed my heart out, on a page of blank simpatico I refuse to give you weakness, knowing strength you have disowned Yes, I’m a Poet, but my sword is sharp and pointed My shield is scarred and colored with the blood of firebrands My breath won’t plead while shouting, every name a future conquest My pen in hand, a weapon sure, —its ink the truth commands (Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 11/30/2016 8:41:00 AM
A kick-butt poem, Kurt.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things