To An Adversary
Your words are broken things,
each pot with cracks that water swells,
but my words are no better held,
crawling in caves where envy dwells.
So stand and say your poem,
(although I'm not bent to clap),
I'll applaud you in my head my friend,
with a rival's nod, and quick tip of cap.
Copyright © Ph.D Volo Von Wolfenstein | Year Posted 2012
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