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The Thirteenth Loser (Free verse) by seebergerb
When are tears not real? When you cried for the love you lost while dancing on a cloud without touching the ground - when you held dice between your fingertips and prayed for the heavens to bow to you - when you ran across the earth, your sweat forming rivers as wide as a rainbow, for the love you thought belonged to you if you tried hard enough - the sirens at the end of the rainbow wield long teeth, sharp as a cut axe, wings ash-colored and eyes as empty as space.

Up the ladder: Eternity
Down the ladder: Your judge is you

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Arithmetic Mean: 4.8
Weighted score: 4.9
Overall Rank: 9860
Posted: May 27, 2002 7:43 PM PDT; Last modified: May 27, 2002 7:43 PM PDT
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Comments:
[2] PatColvin @ 149.63.72.76 | 9-Jul-02/7:23 PM | Reply
OK...
[8] horus8 @ 24.126.113.154 | 11-Jul-02/6:30 PM | Reply
Better Sirens than Harpies. a delightful poem.??
[8] deleted user @ 203.167.1.113 | 23-Jul-02/3:13 AM | Reply
nice.. vulneribility.
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