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maraud
maraud
What can write this anger,
no words to seal this angst.
Tomorrow if I’m to feel this,
who am I against.
The dinner table’s set,
surely the anger’s mine.
How many egos feed,
then sup at a rich wine.
Caress my spun head,
tear free working word.
Freely call the enemy to field,
show now a true worth.
Give hating heart direction,
to cam disordered mind.
Write utterance of affection,
script the peace I find.