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The Dark Poet (Free verse) by Dovina

Haunted by the road not taken, compassioned for roots of fluttering trees and the restlessness of both, observer of happy peril in a runaway colt, finder of gloom in “easy wind and downy flake,” dramatizer of a hired man’s death, of five hundred dollars for a pair of lost feet. Through poems, if not his life, love is agony, life’s a trial, expectation bows to reality, bitter binds to every sweet. Despair wed to fortitude, endless bearing up —- for gifts like these they call him dark.

drnick 28-Aug-07/2:59 PM
I'm in the dark because I choose to be. I revel the dark side of human nature, it is far more fascinating to me than the opposite; more complex, mysterious. The light is brighter because you can appreciate it more, it's a contrast to everything around you(i.e. a winning lotto ticket to a homeless man is far more significant/meaningful than it would be to a millionare).




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