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I’m a press, I’m a page

I am screaming my rage

And raging in silence-I’m haunted

But I digress-It’s a stage

And I am learning to gauge

The strength of this cage I am  bound to

 

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About Keats

Oh I'm sassy and I'm sexy, So silly sweet-and-sour Delightfully disastrous And deliciously dour I'm flippantly foolish, Filled I am with fear Can't concentrate completely, and my conduct isn't clear But to bravely be my best I Bring bravado back, BEHOLD!

2 responses »

  1. That which contains us, restrains us and tames us, gives us structure and meaning and leaves us beaming, or so it seems when life is working well and not unseemingly coming apart at all the seams. We grow, like Popeye’s spinach arms, in spasms hanging over chasms, we dangle, trying to figure the angle,putting rhyming words to the truly absurd,wanting, needing to be seen and heard. Hello in There.

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