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My “Epitaph”

Pause here who’d pass me by, pause here, my friend,    
That last my words forbade, last find their end.  
Too many hours alone I gave the Muse,    
Too many days I've lost to phrase I'd use.    
My poet’s brain was crossly wired wrong,    
To rather write than sing my lover’s song,    
To claim in words that wanton sex imply,    
Than find a wanton girl who'd with me lie.    
So keep them all, I'll wordless wander home,    
That I may write in her my heaven’s po’m.    
 
Written by Hepcat61 (geoff cat)
Published | Edited 26th Nov 2018
Author's Note
It has been noted that I should point the reader to the poems inspiration, for both form and "tone" -

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52302/epitaph-56d230a7aed07
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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