deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Turn
As once a child, the sting was felt
The fear so fresh and blunt
A scholar though he was at heart
The words fell death and dumb
Calendars were forged and burned, an epiphany was sung
The fists fell heavy, hard and true
Of the man I have become.
The fear so fresh and blunt
A scholar though he was at heart
The words fell death and dumb
Calendars were forged and burned, an epiphany was sung
The fists fell heavy, hard and true
Of the man I have become.
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