Sonnet #6

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For me unknown the truth is my laugh missed?

my head would tinge inside the sparing walls.

Persistence stepped from what the truth insists

not stopped or hinged to make a proper fault.

so bothered, spent the time to pass what's seen

and Morbid wakes my coffin's weary board.

Admired the birds will sing asleep in trees

as last night's dreams were this night's promise sworn

Creating art was not so simply done

like floating by on top of swirling clouds.

The crowd bites off the times of change to come

they stare upon the mark I left in bounds.

    My laughter's breath in death will go to show,

    the few I've met and few I've come to know.

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