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Jan 2016
As a poet
I seek to give words
A form of sorts
I feel as though I am a blacksmith
The hammer a pen
The paper my anvil
Words the steel
Viciously shapeless at first
Once refined, beautifully curved
Tempered with my emotion
To form a crafted sword
Not meant to pierce flesh
But instead the soul
Surface can be of gilded gold
Ornate and pretty
A blade meant to dazzle and woo
I say this resolutely, absolutely
Because in the breath of a sentence
One can live **forever
A poem about the impact poetry can can have and what better way to describe than to say you're a craftsman of sorts
Dae Staebell
Written by
Dae Staebell  Georgia
(Georgia)   
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         ---, Chandra S, shamamama, Walter W Hoelbling, X and 17 others
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