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The Lost Poet
Folder:
Poe'ten'ry [poems of ten lines]
The poet is lost,
Since he can’t write, almost,
Not literally,
But in his psyche.
What is the stature,
Of a poet without his nectar?
The food of his mind,
Is way behind!
O poet! Let your words fall like rain,
Gift us with your pearls; let us get rid of pain.
