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Returneth (Free verse) by Patsy
i finally justified both sides to me. The big question now is: what do i do? Do i just leave the world to you? i am taking a step. i shall not be photographed - i'd have to be sketched. But am i really trying my hardest? Do i try to pry truth from the farthest echos of a lie or do i only beautify the sounds i hear? If i said so- to express my doubts- does it make me a masterful plan or a cowardly attack? i am only a pheonix in my head because isn't that what we all want? Creativity is somehow eclipsed by solo activity and i am backed down in a realm of hacks. There are five days left until The X-Mas and a half of me who has been hibernating is thawing and she like an iced up mammoth still tastes good tastes like inspiration. You have more hangups than the batcave and i have become one of them. Your hands on my back are actually traitors to yourself and i know how much i deserve versus how must i can shell out. After all, what is being there for but for to be seen in your dazzling new lean and mean? Only my keening can tip those scales.

Up the ladder: The Bed I Made
Down the ladder: Golden Sands

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Arithmetic Mean: 5.6666665
Weighted score: 5.0794687
Overall Rank: 6468
Posted: January 3, 2004 7:19 PM PST; Last modified: January 3, 2004 7:19 PM PST
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Comments:
[10] basit_i @ 161.184.192.81 | 4-Jan-04/12:05 AM | Reply
At this early hour, the poem's dichotomies seem tender, the self-interrogation nearly gentle. With the light of day the edges may turn hard and unjust, i know, but at the moment... Honest to (nearly) the core, i appreciate.
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