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Ŕ Bout de Souffle
Out of Breath
Child of Favor
Fame is born on Favor's stage
And cries to those obscure:
"Of me you tire as you age—
Forget as you mature."

Ill-defined, amorphous speak
Is matched with moan and sigh;
Then all declare "We're each unique!"
But one alone: "Not I—
O fear of God—not I!"

Indignant now, the crowd disband,
Walk each a different way,
Yet all will lie beneath the land
Upon their dying day.

We now return to Favor's Fame,
Who since was left alone
And, lacking Favor, did proclaim
"I fear I am unknown—
O fear of God—unknown!"

I really like it. Especially the last stanza. Fame is nothing without the crowd. And the meter there is really pleasing. Good work!
» Zanzibar on 2007-07-12 06:59:07

Nice Job
It's really good. I like it!!!! :)
» Princess_00 on 2007-07-12 08:44:25

I like it!
» KKama67 on 2007-07-12 11:56:44

"I wanna be famous!"
...said the well-known serial killer at a young age.
» invisible on 2007-07-13 05:11:20

How did you know
that I was into killing serially?
» Bartholomew on 2007-07-14 06:18:00

Whats that? Sounds painful
» Xboyz on 2007-07-16 02:55:03



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