The Serenity Line - Poem by Rebecca Stansfield
I be born a surrounding soul,
bowing at each and every courtesy,
yet each and everything thing I stole,
stolen from grace and robbed from me,
lost, lonely with no company.
I'd be born to see what could appear,
away from me, everything thing would fly away,
and with piercing eyes, my eyes would peer,
were at the beginning on everyday,
days would seem to disobey.
I'd be born with eyes shadowy, bowered,
every thing of good from me would slip,
and slipping, raindrops on me showered,
and so killing me with every drip-
dripping, dropping on my lips.
I'd be born, boundless yet not to enjoy,
the pleasure of the acute lies,
that would haunt me when dread would enjoy,
everything thing from me it had remind,
it's self that I'm too free to cry.
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