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joe-postove
Sensitive and Unafraid Nestled next to God Whom she claims to know One day She took in a crippled stranger Who was blind and corrupt Unable to live, unwilling to die She did not smile at first Unsure of the blind and corrupt man Though he was as afraid of her As she was awesome in her fearlessness She taught God and happiness He was an anarchist Slowly she understood That the stranger did not know what she knew So they came to an accommodation Each would grow.
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Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 5:55 PM UTC
Sensitive and Unafraid
Dance When you are sixty you can dance... It is not however The dance one dances at twenty-one When you dance the dance of freedom and grand Illumination When you dance at sixty It is a dance to the grave But it too can be liberating and joyful As you waltz around the borders of life
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Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 6:49 AM UTC
Dance
We Pray Peace, And Act War. Beat our swords into plowshares? Ah, but the world has closed to old ideas. Lay down your arms soldier, For who are you fighting for? And for what? And why? The Tournament Of World Power Is now into overtime. And the players tire. But the coaches move us, With the pep of a teenager's drive and intellect, Oblivious. The blissful oblivion of conscience undone.
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Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 9:34 AM UTC
The Tournament Of World Power