Disdain Poem by David Fiedler

Disdain



Disdain
Disdain is the fortune,
And belly of all the sins that prohibit man.
Yet even when in doubt I see a moment
Of despair so clear and usual that I must
Reattend to perusal.

And then I see more clear the moment,
The becoming day of some number or,
Everlasting bliss which happens anyway.

Sunday, February 8, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: happiness
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David Fiedler

David Fiedler

Philadelphia
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