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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏
𝑻𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅
𝑰𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒔𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔
𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈
𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒔𝒐𝒎 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉,
𝑰𝒕𝒔 𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒈 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕
𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆.

𝑻𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒊𝒍
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈
𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔
𝑻𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔
𝑰𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆,
𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅
𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.

𝑴𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔
𝑻𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔
𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑰'𝒎 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅
𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒖𝒔𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏
𝑼𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕
𝑰 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕
𝑰𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔
𝑻𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒓𝒅.
Dylan G Nov 2014
I am writing a poem without exposition or introduction.
Drat.
I am a failure :(

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