Large hand about to fall
A conspiracy at the heart
Patience to men offered in part
Our Sun an alarm to call
My workhorse awaits, but I stall
Beauty woven in linen, my eyes dart
Four Muscular stilts behind this cart
King at our Castle eagerly views all
Green paper looseth I
How merciful shall judgments be?
Upon my head they prophecy
For the deed, a price for me
Amor! I cry
Regret not my actions as I flee
Todays best new poem was written by Andrew Michael.
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