A Poet's Dying Breath
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
In the Secret Parts of Fortune
The pair of them
Are as honest
As thieves.
As trustable
As adders fanged.
Or are they?
Are the more
Trapped like mice?
Lost as bread crumbs?
Poor fools,
Crawling between earth
And heaven,
As cunning minds
Draw the noose around them.
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