A message

a message

Let not my heart be silent

much is at stake

a message

poetry is not dead, not dead.

Let not my hands shake

nor my fingers stiffen

a message

words are at stake.

Let not my eyes become weak

beauty awaits like the dawn

a message

poetry needs to speak.

Let not my blood cease to flow

words are lodged in my veins

a message

each drop a precious stain.

Let not my head be empty

of thoughts that matter most

nor lose my ability to convey

a message

thus an honor of

a poet host.

7/16/2011

A tribute to all poets

 

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burn baby burn

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