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My words and my poems
Are no more than explanations
And embellishments
My means of expression
For my life is my "art"
It's what I am and what I write
It's why I need to write
To make sense of the things
I've seen and done
And there are times when
I think I've done far too much
Then, in deep contemplation
I realise I could have done more
And that kind of inner debate
And discussion with myself
Are a large part of my life
Which becomes my version
Of something like "art"

                                         By Phil Roberts
 Nov 2015 Richard B Sebastian
ryn
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communicate•such are her methods to make us see•
she tries to                    the mother we've abused to such
the way                              a state•the earth we've squand-
it is                                         ered so very blindly•but we do
•                                              not change our ways • instead
                                                  we devise our feeble solutions•
                                               bunkers and alerts, in place we
                                           lay•hoping these would halt her
                                   spiteful vengeance•the past has sha-
                   red of what transpired before•our days carry
      on without words of thanks•we could never learn
of what's in store•what ripple could grow to consume    

  
**our banks•
Concrete Poem 8 of 30

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