I must have read somewhere that art equals pain; reworked, revised improved upon, but pain nonetheless. A means of expressing the anguish and innermost jot or fury of the one so improverished. The perpetual flowing from a seemingly endless source of pathos. A relentless well-spring of: Guile and Guilt Fervor and Splendor Tremor and Hope A truly cleansing and uplifting experience. If poetry can be considered art, then I offer my art for your perusal and publication.
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