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The Pseudo-Portraitist (Free verse) by versus_u I declared that the world has to let go of love
Free it and never allow it to come back
For what goodness can cause it to flourish
If the ogres of common sense swear in its name
And what is it but self-abasement on my part
If what I take hold of now is a prototype of its enemy
To live for nothing yet kill for wisdom
For death springs forth from the mind
As my pencil becomes a soldier of sloth.
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