pens aphorisms

again my pen

mightier than sword of an inner soapbox

lays words down on the page

not to rest

while they dance and circle wagons

with rage

yet they congeal as a keel to guide

can and do shield, reveal and hide

what is better laid out in the open anyway

oh the energy used to cover

smother

keep from other

brother, sister

tell me how feeling so alone is

simply a drone

sculpted by resistance

as the freed hand

swings the hammer

points the chisel

and gets me free

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