Your multitude of desolate platitudes
Leave me inconsolably destitute;
Resigned to prostitute and pollute
Beliefs before held resolute
...
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Interesting and well-penned paradox here, and one to which I think many will relate. t x
This poem recalls to me what I wrote to my wife long ago: 'Words seem of so little use when the feeling I have for you is real. / 'Love' is a poem I would have written if I had not met and married you.' Your poem effectively uses word sounds to enforce meaning and content. Another great job.