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My fingers ache from
The strain – word follows word
While quietly sits the sword –
In its scabbard, sleeping
Before its joyous song,
Sowing
‘righteousness’
‘peace’
‘justice’
Words on a scrap of paper
Cant change actions –
Maybe I can
©2008-2010 ~feralbanana
:iconferalbanana:

Author's Comments

One of a set of 8 poems I wrote on Friday. Will comment more when I get time/back from Germany.

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March 10, 2008
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