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POETS AND THE WORLD
There is a wound in my heart which my beloved did cause
There is a wound in my soul which made my smiles pause
Even if the clouds, the winds and the sky is rent asunder
There will be no end to the ache I've been given.
So did most of the poets ere me suffered
They gave love and to them hate was offered
Along with malice and envy by jealous people
Yet the poets live on and their poems are revered.
This one was a simple expression of deep, intence emotion stimulated by a painful experience, well written too.
Enjoyed reading.