(It’s one a.m., the thermometer measures fifty degrees in the poet’s gypsy cart, and she is on the job)
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Even as you desp’rate sob
Remembering to do your job…
“The Path True Poets Walk” (3:56)
https://www.dropbox.com/s/mbpqq7aaoj0ffrk/The%20Path%20True%20Poets%20Walk.m4a?dl=0
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Among us, poets are not paid. The poet/editor of this website, being physically disabled, lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level, and currently lives in her vehicle. Become a patron of the fine arts by making a donation at: https://www.gofundme.com/are-you-a-patron-of-the-arts
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Reblogged this on OPENED HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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👌👍😊
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OMG YES, the LIES. That really speaks to me. The lies that people tell, even to themselves, so they don’t have to face the REAL truth. Of what IS, and of what THEY do, from their comfortable zone. Hmmm. This is brilliant Ana. All SO true. It all speaks to me, i hope itcspeaks to more people too, in their comfortable lives. Yet there IS still some love and understanding in the workd and we find it from time to time. A brilliant poem Ana. ❤️
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You and I are truly so very much alike! 🤗😚
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I am so glad to have found you Ana ❤️
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That’s two of us, sista 👩❤️👩
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Clap clap. If there is an after life I hope we meet up! I don’t know what I believe about that though!
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