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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" href="http://www.englishforums.com/utility/FeedStylesheets/rss.xsl" media="screen"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/" xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"><channel><title>Poetry</title><link>http://www.englishforums.com/English/Poetry/Forum13.htm</link><description>Poets.. come one, come all.</description><dc:language>en</dc:language><generator>XMOD (Build: 3616.28671)</generator><item><title>An Incomprehensible Poem I Made</title><link>http://www.englishforums.com/English/AnIncomprehensiblePoemMade/bvqn/post.htm</link><pubDate>Sun, 26 Apr 2009 22:43:21 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">946f00bb-57d3-4b7b-a9a2-059b5341af52:6354</guid><dc:creator>Jacko</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://www.englishforums.com/English/AnIncomprehensiblePoemMade/bvqn/post.htm</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://www.englishforums.com/English/comments13-6354.xml</wfw:commentRss><description>Three Hours to Live  Moment grows life from childhood In an hour's time voided of retraction Smiles on faces must not allude To the innocent's sullen disposition  Exodus or apocalypse, the second varies From the first hour's timeline 'Tis the hour to see lives be the ancillaries Framed by childhood's acting serpertine  Third hour's of the essence Hour that converges love and hate It's the stage of adult's scents Sniffing world with noses that berate  Fourth hour no longer comes to exist For its beginning is the beginning of end Six feet below the ground, lives cease 'Tis the living seeing what you earned  How much have you accomplished In your wake and consciousness Would you see the remaining be pleased Or mourn...</description></item></channel></rss>