Deprived, Depraved, and Still

Know what we are, the fear.

Do not lace and draw the wind 

or the willows.

To be like they are,

To see as they see.

Weary of two,

and one.

Clear and appeared,

become like another want

and need lacking only what is of want to lack

and be little of,

Deprived, Depraved and still

coming and going to the declarations of privacy

now all knowing.

Rocked by the farewell and its

fashion, unchanged.



Published by James J Jackson

I'm a poet from California.

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