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"certitudes" poems
what if my certitudes were lies what if my soul was not alive what if my questions were the goal and worthiest answers were not told what if this thing was not a poem that no verse were riming that they were from different realm where it exists no timing when I look back to my old questions I see misunderstanding and poison not from the questions, they're guiltless but from the answers that aren't timeless some fear have grown to trash others were created from scratch but never a time a single question were to lead to misconception only the temporary answers with time has become mind blockers I think i'm too serious "what if" is made for genius for people smart enough to act blindly fearless enough to work hard and kindly but since I don't know who I am what if I choose to be one of them?
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Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
If, What If!
The sun is sane, pure as his light— Always beaming about certitudes, Wearing his indigo robe speckled With old stars— a jewel in the sky. The earth is but in lone upheavals, With only friend of desolate moon, Crowned with bugs, buzzing on fire And all is madness— under the sun.
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Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 7:52 PM UTC
Sane is the Sun
. The sun is sane, pure as his light— Always beaming about certitudes, Wearing his indigo robe speckled With old stars— a jewel in the sky. The earth is but in lone upheavals, With only friend of desolate moon, Crowned with bugs, buzzing on fire And all is madness— under the sun.*
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
Sane is the Sun
The sun is sane, pure as his light— Always beaming about certitudes, Wearing his indigo robe speckled With old stars— a jewel in the sky. The earth is but in lone upheavals, With only friend of desolate moon, Crowned with bugs, buzzing on fire And all is madness— under the sun.
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 5:23 PM UTC
Sane is the Sun
The sun is sane, pure as his light— Always beaming about certitudes, Wearing his indigo robe speckled With old stars— a jewel in the sky. The earth is but in lone upheavals, With only friend of desolate moon, Crowned with bugs, buzzing on fire And all is madness— under the sun.
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
Sane is the Sun