What am I?
What am I but flesh and bone?
What am I but a whispering memory
When i am dead and gone?
What am I?
I am nothing but another of the same
No Queen am I, but a mere pawn
In this cold uncaring game
What am I?
Just another passerby in the streets
I am just another smile
Hiding bloody knives beneath white sheets
What am I?
I am a poet who has abandoned her rhymes
My pen bled dry and made dull
By complacence and Father Time.
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