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The Unimportance of Being Me
They say
Love makes the world
go round
That Hate is really out-of-date
Although it still is found
It seems
Sex is here to stay
indefinitely
That Lust is a must
Especially today
But me
I need not be
It matters not a jot
If I get hot
Or cold
Or bold
Or scold another
Or love
Or laugh
Or cry
Or lose my mother
Life goes on
And would continue
should I die
But I alive sit wondering why
No-one seems
To claim the blame
For this
unflattering
so shattering
Thought
Of me not mattering.
(London, UK)
(1960)
poem
by
Philippa Lane
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