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by patrick Sep 12, 2019
sitting here with my page
in the dark. of the morning night
reading my autobiography in my mind
a couple of families to make me think
with the shadow of my manly groin, haunting me
my tone death ear contradicting my words
neither rich nor famous
feelings which have remained all night
spurring me on with this write
my way to articulate the ongoing revolution
that is me
the deepest dark. precedes the light
can I call this poetry?
are there diamonds to be found?
in the crushing mine fields of my mind