Sits, their he, no more
no more, sits he, their'by
Waiting.
The weight, is no more.
The burden we carry, no more.
Together.
Now he doth wait,
For the more part .
The part to come then,
When we are no more,
Separate.
But, together, again.
“Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.” ― William Butler Yeats
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I love to collect thoughts. I would love to collect some of yours, if they are mindful and respectable.