RhymeMosaic

Meter, Metaphor, Memory + Meaning

Poetry by Brandon WordSmith — exploring love, loss, faith, and the human experience. The site loads its full interactive experience with JavaScript; what follows is the readable text version.

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Founder's Canon

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Someone please release me From this terrible disease I’m aching, shaking, waiting For some kind of sweet relief Oh, lift me up, or tear me down It matters not the least to me Just take away, or take my brain Off of this temporary pain I wait in vain for hands to heal For sky to split itself, reveal The reason for my sickness, still I get no peace, no help, no pill I’m left to suffer all alone Inside my head I call my home Oh God, I pray you’ll take this soon Before I surely meet my doom

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