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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted (edited)

The man mined gold with conversation

He charmed the world and used persuasion

To see him smile was never rare

What happened to him was it despair?

 

Independence and self esteem

Perhaps the dying of a dream

Stolen away bit by bit

Until in his world he didn’t fit.

 

The words dried up as silence fell

And once again he was in its spell

Nothing to do but wait and see

He asks himself “What is left that’s me?”

 

Pills to manage and console

An illness that he can’t control

Darkness drawn on misery

It took his masculinity.

 

Dawn and time to rise

To face a life he does despise

Quietly he rose with discontent

That final day he fell silent.

Edited by Regel
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