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Epitaph (Free verse) by philn

If all the world's a stage I made my entrance long ago Into the middle class, downtrodden caste That I have called my home. Reared to love convention And to hate all that is free I have traded self-reliance And embraced conformity I sought six figure jobs And I wed the richest wife For without dollars, there's no sense In living out this life I hid well these bloodstained hands Bitter as an unshed tear And I have built myself a tower Of ambition through the years But Babel and my fortunes fell One dark and dreary day So I sought to sneak through heaven's gates Stolen wings and evil ways Now I black out this brief candle My monologue is done The curtain call, the exit The breath of God is gone.

Stephen Robins 7-May-04/6:13 AM
This poem is as entertaining as shopping with pants full of follow through, in a large out of town shopping centre, knowing that you have to get the bus home and someone has taken an overdose in the toilet affording you no possibility of discarding your soiled under garments.

-10_




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