Sunday, September 18, 2011

All Else Corrodes

Do not deteriorate me into a poem.
Yes, I move.  I am
          Moved but I do not ebb and flow by your
          Moods. 
I remain intact despite your efforts at reduction. 
I am truth and if the image
 is distorted, it’s your mirror that is broken. 
                                                                     Beauty cannot be perverted, spoiled or defiled. 
                                                                                                                                     It is
 as I am.
Man’s depravity, adultery has nothing to do with me. 
        Stain not
my words. 
All else corrodes but I cannot be shaken.
                                   The world lays waste, cities crumble,
Motheaten.
     Time
            Eats only man.
              And your poem - faulty, rusted.
I am not a poem. 
I am the Poet.

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