These Stones
For every stone I lay I bleed
Bone batterers the pile at my feet
Are foundations so I succeed
Making my triumph out of defeat
Brick by battering brick I laid
Each flesh fanged stone rising up
Against being sore and afraid
Grimacing but gulping from the cup
Of spite, of jealousy, of hate
Offered me; their secret hemlock
By which I am galled by fate
Poisoned since the auction block
With al my feathers littered there
These stones are my babel of despair.
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