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Original: 5/30/2006 11:52 AM
Comments: 3
eProps: 4

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2 eProps!2 eProps! 2 eProps from:
TheCrimsonNinja
ChaoSSlight


Tuesday, May 30, 2006
 

A Petrarchan Sonnet

Judgment Day

We struggle, not for reason but for none
Born free, to be born strong, but bonded weak
For judgment day comes sooner than you think
The very day we work and worm the warren
As our eyes first behold the bold bright sun
The wide world from its well will wish us drink
And write our path to follow into ink
Foretelling of a soul so sadly fallen
I miss my crooked teeth and always did
That's what I was to be, I still believe
I haven't been myself, not ever since
I miss the folds in which my penis hid
A womb I'll never know, my winter's sleeve
Whence could the inner boy to man evince

 Posted 5/30/2006 11:52 AM - 3 comments

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3 Comments

Visit TheCrimsonNinja's Xanga Site!
don't see many of these written these days.

nice to see you are still writing, andy.
Posted 5/30/2006 12:04 PM by TheCrimsonNinja - reply

Visit ChaoSSlight's Xanga Site!
seriously, this is like the 3rd poem I've read about penises that never wanted to be circumsized
Posted 5/31/2006 1:59 AM by ChaoSSlight - reply

Visit ChaoSSlight's Xanga Site!
^today

today may be a reckoning day for them nerve endings
Posted 5/31/2006 1:59 AM by ChaoSSlight - reply


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