poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

I call this my beloved ground though it's the other way around my noisy rivals the crows standing in disorderly rows allege my transgressions condemn my indiscretions 'tis improper, I'll concede to confide in birds my creed they claim dominion of the skies and the world that 'neath it lies still the sentiment persists that mine ownership exists and where my head rests is no place for other guests thus shall I call christen thee Nation and Citizen title me [23-I-2014]
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
All Rights Reserved
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