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Keith Ren
Poems
Mar 2014
no sad to sell
a thoughted beast,
neither poet, nor man,
let his words construct themselves.
without a care to show
on sheet or screen, (let them),
no need to be, or grow.
with arms to forget
under closing eyes,
with a prize of
only silence,
like the shushing grass,
unaware
of even its green.
Written by
Keith Ren
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Marsha Singh
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