Thursday, September 26, 2013

[Day 8] 365 Days of Poetry Writing

Day 8
Dry Quarrel

No clapping can be made
with one hand.
No quarrel can be made
with one mouth.

I must confess,
I am no good at this.
You are a master
of the Art of Quarrel.

Many a time,
I was led by your piercing questions
that were essential
to your winning.

I dodged no one bullet
from you.
I lost my voice,
and the quarrel.

We both lost.
We both lost.

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