Ars Poetica

" Black Sheep
ne' er do well,
loser,
you're bound for Hell."
Looked down upon
misunderstood
" She's at it again."
" Up to no good."
Despite these words,
there grew a flower,
born of need
it speaks with power.
Watered by tears-
hope is it's root
some call it poetry
it's other name is Truth.

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