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In the town's square I sit as a fool A  steel mask upon my head with ears of a rabbit Robbing my sight of whom approaches this stool Their weapon- a stone, as is the lottery's habit I hear not the assailants, though their strikes hit true Eyes closed, eyes open, the view is the same In the weakness of pain, I cry out for you The very one who enabled this display of shame The blows come harder, the silence grows loud Through blood I beg for mercy, no more can I bear Until phantom hands release me of this shroud Dazed as I gaze upon a deserted square No stones, no blood, no mob I see There is not a soul but me
0
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
The Fool
In the town's square I sit as a fool A  steel mask upon my head with ears of a rabbit Robbing my sight of whom approaches this stool Their weapon- a stone, as is the lottery's habit I hear not the assailants, though their strikes hit true Eyes closed, eyes open, the view is the same In the weakness of pain, I cry out for you The very one who enabled this display of shame The blows come harder, the silence grows loud Through blood I beg for mercy, no more can I bear Until phantom hands release me of this shroud Dazed as I gaze upon a deserted square No stones, no blood, no mob I see There is not a soul but me
darbi-howe
Written by
American
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
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