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Untitled Robertson Omini


I am content:


My contents are simple, Not a glass but a thimble. What I contain is once again An appreciation of pain To embrace my own absurdity, To invite my personal doom, To know my limited capacity And the proximity of the earth’s womb And see the sun set against a shadow of myself.


I am unafraid:


I am conquered but unconquerable. Within each laugh lies a tremble Of what is and was and will be; Of all seen and yet to see, So old eyes in soft bone Would roll back in their sockets And address the end with a bolder tone. Alas! Mortality would be in my pocket! And I will see the sun set against a shadow of myself.


I am awake: W PAGE 29 ∙ Year I ∙ Issue #1


My slumber was broken, So childlike dreams were awoken And did not recoil from maturity, But made a pact of peace with reality To embrace my own absurdity, To avoid my personal disaster, To love my limited capacity, But not make visions my master


And see the sun set against a shadow of myself.


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