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Tag Archives: Bared
In the Hateful Wastefulness of Mediocrity
In the Hateful Wastefulness of Mediocrityby Michael DoyleIs it as it seems some kind of conspiracyThis hateful wastefulness of mediocrityClearly, I am not genius quite enoughFor I, in my simplicity, to hazard a bluffThat human nature is an understandingI hold … Continue reading →
Posted in Poetry and Poems
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Tagged Art, Awkward, Bard's Legacy, Bared, Bluff, Blur, Bonds of Faith, Born, Call, Chances, Chased Around, Child's Test, Clear, Commanding, Conspiracy, Dance, Dawn's Breaking, Deep In the Soul, Denmark, Derision, Doom, Dressed Two Steps Up, Edges of Kingdoms, Elevated Parts, Embrace, Empty Heart, Fall Out, Family, Feigned Fidelity, Figments, Ghost, Giving Everyone Our Ear, Green-Eyed Beast of Jealousy, Hateful, Human Nature, Human Speech, Just Within Reach, Laertes, Laid to Rest, Life's Aching, Mediocrity, Memory, Mocking Innocence, Name of the Nation, Naught, Not Genius, Own Choice, Pain of the Guilty, Pale Shades, Paris, Passage Through Life, Passionate Hearts, Past Avenged, Phrases, Piece of Work, Poetry and Poems, Present Myself, Protests, Reality of the Man, Regard, Shakespeare, Short Work, Silent, Simplicity, Softly Profound, Sorrow's Humility, Stirring, Suspicion, The Man, Torments, Truths of the Soul, Understanding, Vengeage, Wander, Wastefulness, Ways of Mankind, Wicked Imagination, Yet To Be
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