Poetry is Dead
By markashley
Tue, 28 Sep 2004
- 666 reads
I hate the way each phrase or rhyme
Has been worn out by popular verse,
Every little thought and spark
Is echoed by a stale grey page.
I can't wander without the cloud
Or the host of daffodils,
I can not be, and not to be
Without the arrows and the slings.
If I choose to burn so bright
Then I must dodge the tiger's claw.
If I ride into the valley of death
Mine is but to do or die.
My love is like a red red rose
That's tired and fading on the page,
My love is like a summers day
That's overcast with over use.
Are there words that have not been
Burned up with all this poetry?
Is there a fresh and novel way
To say the things I want to say?
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