Typewriter
If in his time the mechanism had existed, would he have written even more?
Would all his neighbors believe him mad? As he watched beauty succumb to deaths door
His ethos words impress; insanity only when possessing exquisite levels of horror
Incessantly; even more incessant rapping comes sanity from the walls, halls, ceiling, and floor
A split vision of a blackbird, he saw halves, though hearing nothing worthy of suffering I wager he'd underscore
So I ponder clearly on nights far less dreary, a legacy expanded if Edgar could've had a typewriter
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