I Am That Rock
T Tom Billsborough
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I am that rock in which the fossils sleep
Deep as the heresies of a disused creed,
Layer on layer the insulating self
Protects its many anguished cries
and falsifies its memories.
Ageing now, my mind solidifies,
A polished limestone cave
Ringing with echoes from a decaying past,
And when I die, a temporary sculpture.
I knew him once, you say. You lie
Hypocrite lecteur! knowing not yourself.
Bu şiiri puanla
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