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Disclaimer: This poem was previously published at Medium on July 31, 2019. → My rusting chains enslave me. i am beaten with the rigors of life. i am auctioned on the block. An ode to gold and silver is my dirge. No one pays the Price on my head. There is only one end- i am nothing except to be used and tossed away. The Son offers his shoulder. i dig a tomb in my burdens. Hope’s dark fuse lies cold…
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