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A Poem Is Life
A poem is life, a being in verse,
A body traveling a minstrel's way,
Devouring all things for better or worse
With a rhythmic pulse that knows not the day.
As its chorus of words trembles with breath,
This organ of life travels on.
Like the undying conscience that gnawed at Macbeth
Long after the knife had been drawn.
An immortal being, a god of the page
This inspiration in verse shall remain
Living on and on with men and their age
As long as there's life to sustain.
poem
by
Gregory Huyette
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