only now
yes - we could do no other
and to those others against whom
our wrinkled brow increase - lines laughing -
or pulled sour as over-briny gammon -
there was only the word - or reflex
around our eyen - caught in thought -
a perplexity of wronged reply
for caged within the accidentalities of life
- with our frailties and falseness
those petty fears and fear of success -
we all know st peter - and
none can forgive but oneself
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