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108 Don Mattera I am nothing I am nothing I have nothing Neither gold nor jewel to give you Save these mad words These erratic, impulsive stanzas Men call poems Trapped, bound In the asylum of my heart Stark, Raving phrases Tormented verbs In search of logic This breath is all I possess: My beginning and my end. Swaddled in song I am nothing, my love Yet just yesterday You shared a dream. Giving meaning to a life Held down by pain For you these lines As gifts of deepest thanks Take them, Hold and pacify The rumbling discontent That shakes my frightened leaves Azanian Love Song 109 I offered so little You gave so much Now a million pianos sing To appease the yearning furnace in my soul, And quieten the querulous quill I am nothing I have nothing But a love song To touch your eyes With passionate blood Rushing through the vein of my pen, Creating a life of words Unending, Infinite I am something, now I have you ...

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