puppetryA Poem by Ed Hart
snipping the strings that bind and dance the child who crouches in the cavern of my heart is a weary task
our world inflated with pretense is not a place but an idea filled with longing
there's no general construction no convivial ideal no amelioration to set against the prodigal weight of our collective loss only this private snipping © 2017 Ed Hart |
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1 Review Added on April 2, 2017 Last Updated on April 3, 2017 AuthorEd HartOlympia, WAAbout3/11/17, i am taking this way to notify my friends and readers that several months ago i was given my walking papers from this dimension...i have pancreatic cancer, stage 4, metastasized...so, you can.. more..Writing
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