Derailed By Train
I never buy, whats bought.
What was bought, I can never buy.
The copper corpse which brassed silver.
To feel more like steel.
Derailed by train.
Succumb to what you weaved.
One or two sleeves.
Does not brand a thief a thief.
The have to, read what you need.
I am the worst kind of perfect.
What i project into the riddles.
I cannot find.
Which is hidden in my hide.
The fountain by sound.
Was found in the valley of Sad But Never Happy.
So I squared my round.
To be more of a tree to a dog.
One which shades and protects.
As the one which presents a bark.
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Comments about this poem (Derailed By Train by Unic Cjonr )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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