>"The Muse" we write poems #45-against the grain

>Gone are times of hysterical madness
Gone are folds of resistance that crease and leave me bent,
unable to stand up against its rage

Gone are reflections of the tarnished or diminished
Gone are scraps of paper holding truths not to be revealed
to anyone, anywhere

Gone are simplifications of enormous magnitude
Gone are stories of supplication’s fear in unknown
areas of the mind

Gone are watchful days with words running in a line
Gone are fears of moonless nights hiding behind
closed curtains that never open

Gone are clowns who terrify with crooked smiles
Gone are mad hatters with different disguises for
days to come forward
Gone are all these from my sight

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