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Friday, September 05, 2008

Musings by Robert E. Howard

The little poets sing of little things:
Hope, cheer, and faith, small queens and puppet kings;
Lovers who kissed and then were made as one,
And modest flowers waving in the sun.

The mighty poets write in blood and tears
And agony that, flame-like, bites and sears. ...

Posted by MM at 10:36 PM
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