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63 Acrostics In the morning I felt the weight of centuries. Centripetal Force of the insane, Only aware Of awareness itself. Tension enough To hold time, As if with one hand To stop A rolling tank. They that leap boundaries Have committed a personal sin, Pain’s due is an individual’s privilege. How far away have I to go That it may leave me? To retire to what scarcity So as to be rid of it? Will the rain soften this lengthy pain If I give it another minute? Last night, I saw you from afar, I foundered and lost my way. I failed to reach you, Barred by my own acrostics. I felt the weight of centuries. A rolling tank: what was meant a bizarre image in 1983 became nightmare reality in 1989. ...

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