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Josh Murphy
Poems
Dec 2013
Artist in the Park
My brush, the sword.
My canvas, the enemy.
I unsheathe my sword and raise it to your throat,
I hold it there for too long, maybe to boast.
Then I swipe across your neck, leaving my mark,
I
would
feel guilty,
But nobody judges an artist in the park.
Written by
Josh Murphy
Dublin
(Dublin)
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