poetry

ungraced

“I’m not afraid of dying,” Charles said,
“After a while, things take on a repeat.”

he was correct, in that–
every poem written
has already been written
by another
by a greater, or lesser, or indifferent poet
tho likely ungraced, by recognition
tho likely unread
we perish of our anonymity
we perish of our fame
choking upon the gluttons’ epiphany
they are each the same

Published by

Eric

I've come to write.

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