If You Tolerate This Then Good For You

More poetry from the master of ignoring important things and people in order to write inane rubbish.

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12. A Life Spent Well

Young man, take my hand. You are blind and cannot see. Beauty is only skin deep. In pages blow the crisp spring breeze. A verse is a vessel. A mirror if you will. A piece of paper passed upon, By a poet's parched quill. Young man, I tell you to read. You will see the truth. That knowledge appears in female lips, But also in well-spent youth.

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