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"guilders" poems
Running for a thousand places Running for my very hide, Running to obscure the traces Run from those I can’t abide. Pursued by the claw of guilders Pursued by the Bank of Greed, Running from the Ruin Builders Run from those whose lust is need. I’ve worked to build a modest holding Worked to feel a pride secured, Family of love enfolding Sanctity midst world endured. Feel manipulations brooding Moneys lust does intervene, Those who have it all, concluding, What is mine is theirs to glean. Claw back by manipulators Claw back by the fiends of greed, Implacable cold calculators Cut with Law to make me bleed. Running for a thousand places Running for my very hide, Run to flee pursuing faces Run from that I can’t abide. Anguish at my walls collapsing Wailing of my bride’s despair Futility’s tomorrow lapsing Monstrous as it flails me there. Standing in a freezing stillness Standing in this hall of time, Forlorn in a prisoned illness Greed has vanquished me and mine. Marshalg For the forgotten people who have been ruined by those, who call themselves the mighty. Auckland N.Z. 9 February 2013
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Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 10:37 PM UTC
Running from the Ruin Builders
Does a writer need more inspiration But ' the mere privilege Of experiencing time ... To read each ones story Turning into a playwright Or a screen guilders award So many times , I have begun my story Never progressing , as each new story unfolds in every old story that exists Similar to the script that opens whenever A choice of chocolate beckons Top deck , being the winner , partially in relation to a great friendship , partially for the instincts it always performs In me. It's relativity to the expressions of our stories - the layers of changing. Once upon a time.... DK 2014
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Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Mere privilege