The Prince Poem by Nancy Ames
The Prince
A smokescreen of language
rises from below.
the tyrant can hear
nothing but flattery.
His landscape is a mirror.
Mother loves and baby needs.
Father's courage scrapes
the edges raw,
exposes now
the naked,
reaching tip
of human knowledge.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: baby,courage,father,mirror
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8/7/2026 3:49:31 AM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
