My Sickening Words

Poem A

Sad are the humble

who sings of melacholy,

seeking gold within.


Angry are the greedy

who shouts vile verses at

the lovely children.


Happy are the unclean

who accept themselves as filth

but do not spill dirt.


Poem B

He fell to fury

while searching for paradise,

and shall not return.


Poem C

The vain words I speak

have meant less of faith in us,

and more in myself.


But until the tree leaves

fall unto my passive heart,

I may write of glory.

The End

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