Words of circular length
lying in line
upon a field of white
Waiting
for my pen
to encompass them
Sentences
not quite able to combine
as poetry
Insufficiently sublime
hypocrisy
Lies
as yet but half-told truths
Insufficiently divine
for heresy
The latitude and longitude of lines
Unable quite to coalesce,
A rhymer, not yet wholly blind –
Please rescue me…
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