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GOLD upon the open stage.
Let me turn another page.
Walk I do with a weighted yoke.
All this GOLD, a color of a joke.
Let me bury it in the ground.
Hide it's glitter from the frown.
WHY ? This burden in life.
All that it does,it gives me strife.
Let me shed this snakeskin.
I'm a prisoner of it's mortal sins.
The lusts it brings into my life.
Statue friends, with a song from the fife.
The snake shows it's GOLDEN HEAD.
A SHEET OVER MY FACE IN A DEATH BED.


from my poem book DREAMS 2

------
SCRATCHES ON THE PAGE,
MAKING NOISE


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by poewhit





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