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Killing A Poem

They caught a Poem today
A newborn by its writer,
Dissected it all the way
From punctuation to each letter.

They drained it dry of meaning,
Analyzing every word.
The Poem lay wondering
For being, why it suffered.

Some called it cruel names,
Banishing the very essence.
It lay on the paged frame
Crushed in its Innocence.

Its only crime was content -
Perhaps to them, displeasing,
A mere victim of argument
Had to face some editing.

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