inscriptions
the potter
he who had the un-magical touch
couldn't turn anything into gold
the best he could do
at the end of his life
was returned to dust
(12/18/03)
© idlehouse
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personal collection of poems and odd pieces written/composed by me
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Our Father-----
it’s still not too late
ability
upon hearing about a friend's friend's death
all that talk
she prayed
January 30th
..-.-
things that are fit for strangers to say
.--
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