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On Poetry Concrete emotion frames
the architecture of poetry
designed by amateur hands
but modeled after actuality.
This building was found in
ruins and destroyed at the
hands of abandonment
until influence restored it.
Constructed with splintered
wood and caked-on plaster,
I took the form of possibility
while deserting incompetence.
Though the rains may fall
And the winds blow hard,
I know I can rely on this
structure to remain intact.
Let these words forever be
the walls that support me,
but never the firm ground
sprawled out beneath me.
