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I Live

I live in the spirtworld..
Where wrath of time
Is prose impearled

Take my pen and paint your shore
Sixteen pence
Is twice two four

Commence your golden shaded lore
And shape my words
To tend no more

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
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While your rhythm is good, this poem for
me lacks substance, nonsensical at best.

thanks for sharing


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