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The choices we make (Free verse) by darby pyn

A fire deep inside won’t let me lament. inoculate the soars with rhetorical cement. born for breeding and dying young like my father and like his son. my carnal vices hold no sect I’m secular form that intellect it held me down in it’s archaic fist. and kept me blind below the mist of forgery with a smile. guilty without a trial. in my Shiva I mourned my youth with callow ignorance I stayed aloof. promiscuous with every shot I laid her down above my cot and lose myself below the belt and watch her inhibitions melt and for a moment we were one. I promised her the moon and sun. but in the morning I just stood still watching her cry by the doorway sill and as the door closed behind her back I suffered my first heart attack. that day I knew I had no soul and blamed it on no self-control. years would pass and the taste would sting with every memory the past would bring. till I was left alone to cower in the corner of my judgment hour

darby pyn 30-Jun-05/10:29 AM

The way I meant “inoculate the soars with rhetorical cement”
is this is a poem about a man at a young age who hated what he saw.
the government. his dad a poor man sent to war lost a limb
and gets spit at on return, say the church who beats him
and in his eyes full of hypocrisy. so say you want to memorize
a number, 856, 856 , 856. you repeat it over and over.
as a child he is saying “I will never be like that”
over and over. and in that case which I meant it
the phrase works.

thanks for your insight.







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