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by Hack
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1416017
I heard a child chanting "sticks and stones can break my bones..." this is what appeared.
Stakes purpose driven into
personal property's weakness
mark a filthy exploration;
an act of exploitation.

Gilded flowers translate
whispered languages that
hiss in tongues too
accusing to understand.

Words' lofty meanings rendered
unseen under the colour blind
camouflage of the mind;
leaving coffins laughingly
open for sightless viewing.

These hard words
leave a closed throat;
dustily drowned out
of existent hearing.

Reactions that lack instructions
from even an ill
equipped dictionary
are interesting
things; varied, complex,
and misinterpreted from
one person to the next.

Don't words  - repeated
twice and again -
lose their precious
carriage tenfold?
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