Reads: 313  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 2

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  No Houses

Such is the currency of words,

in which, I, of little property and  prosperity,

though fortunately lacking in poverty,

have paid with a taxing refrain, 

this  sound unheard;

given away, offered for the taking, 

flattered by their stolen inheritance,

  always and forevermore returning back,

back to me.

This overflowing gilded purse upon my tongue,

making me all the richer, for the better;

not the worse,

lest I would gladly give it all away again, 

written with one simple

last love letter.


Submitted: December 31, 2017

© Copyright 2021 Dr. Acula. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Nicely done, Doc. So many words, some we know, but lots we don't. Still so hard to find the right ones, or to receive them to.

Sun, December 31st, 2017 5:59pm


Thank you Hully !

Sun, December 31st, 2017 4:53pm

Mike S.

If word are indeed currency, SHIT, I'm screwed, and broke!

Sun, December 31st, 2017 8:09pm


Haha, me too dude !
Thanks Mike !

Sun, December 31st, 2017 5:06pm

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