Rows of books around me stand,
Fence me in on either hand;
Through that forest of dead words
I would hunt the living birds -
So I write these lines for you
Who have felt the death-wish too,
All the wires are cut, my friends
Live beyond the severed ends.
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Comments1Really hit home for me, this poem did. Kinda heavy yet relatable, especially the part about hunting living birds outta dead words. So deep.