In My
Sketchbook
Are
Lines
Of
Invisible
Tolerance
Divisible
Only by
Martyrs
On the eve
Of
The Fifth
The band rocks out
Hopelessly
Phosphorescent
Chords and riffs
Squares, triangles, splits
Paradigms explode here
In my sketchbook
I
Fit
This poem was a great start to my day sir!!
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