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Prophet

Oh lord, oh lord,
what has befallen me?
That which I hoped to make straight
only becomes more twisted.
That which should be understood
only becomes more strange.
How did I come to this unexpected shore?
And what am I to make of the walking wreck of myself?
It’s true, I can still think, still work,
still make the sleepless time of the night
speak in poems.
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6/15/2021 8:05:15 AM # 1.0.0.627