Poetry

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You circled me.
I spun and spun.
You caught me.
I played the game,
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Nimble and daft with rhetoric mesmerizing the awed populace
With ecclesiastical jargons full of white noise coupled with a plethora

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Stoicism bashed harbours gash anew  like a gorge in summer;
Each rivulet deferred dream rising from the abyss full of lithe,

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Like dashing waves disgorging the shore retreating whimsical
I ponder in sobriety the futility of my multifarious overtures,

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Chud! Chud! Chud!
Up and down
Shallow ground
Seething smell of gasoline
I bear