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Confined to set limits,
can we ever see beyond
the monochrome tags?

Therein lies the answer to all
of our questions, which we search for
in this so-called modern poetry.
Where the likes of R. M. Drakes state
the obvious in terms we can relate to.
Where Homer and Wordsworth and others
are the mystery no one has time to solve.

The world rotates too slow for those of us
who like to move fast.
So we settle for a half beating heart,
and for things partly done.

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