A Match
I.
My words! More ugly that I mes' shred now—
a match to spark a flame, and thus let be—
But leave them as: w/out you hast painted me,
no screams; no tears—but dying as flames grow
mean and mere stricken me less-read-so,
my words! Mere nothing to speak lessing me
an enstrained delineation statues' glee
a crackle as flames take toll, growing now—
II.
Anger shreds to better my becoming,
The significance of the Sun
to-the-day-or-moon to night—who'd bear?
Much undead life as how Sonnet should sing
the significance of the Sun
fulfills a smile True Love speaks for the ears—
1/8/23
10:35 PM
Wm. Irving
William Irving #182906
Digital Mail Center—Missouri DOC
P.O. Box 25678
Tampa, FL 33622-5678
2024 oct 30
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2024 oct 30
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2024 oct 30
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2024 oct 30
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2024 oct 30
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