The Pen Speaks to the Poet
Lonely soul, where would you be
Without the humble likes of me --
No hopes of immortality,
No record of your gallantry,
No proof that you’ve crawled from the sea
And suffered so theatrically --
At my expense you guarantee
No thing but your own vanity –
Resist ! Desist ! Can you not see
Your vice will mean the end of me.
--
The Elemental Squid
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