What if a poet existed
Who was a martyr?
She defied all tyrants with her soliloquies
And she pardoned the ladies with noses that matched
Matching noses?
How could this be?
No one knows
The secrets of the noses
She elected herself over and over
To death she marched
But there was not a single time she succeeded
After her final attempt to offer herself she was allowed to cross over to the other side
But she was hastily rejected and returned
She finally agreed with the majority
Death was not suited to her
Then came the lady with a duplicate nose
The lady announced the poet should die
To make way for everyone else
The poet took offense
Since she was no longer seeking death
And to have someone else offer her up
Made the whole experience displeasing
Also displeasurable now: the topic of tyrants who order and fuss
So, instead of dwelling on unsavory details
She marched aside
While the trouble went down
And finally found out the truth
It was right there all along
The truth is whatever you make it
And wherever you place it
So she decided to place it somewhere where the deletions were less frequent
And she made an attempt to be less scathing
There will always be someone out there hurting much more or much less
It took her a long time to learn to show some respect
And what should have been simple was actually quite hard
Love is always alive, it's how we survive
The poet sat silent in soft repose
Forgiveness was such a hard lesson for her
Because to forgive is not necessarily to forget
She decided, "I forgive everyone past, present, and future."
But I do not forget, I do not forget
And she prayed for God to remind her every day
By bringing her low, by bringing her down
Life is a gift it's not always around
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