Who purge their soul
Of lesser than whole
An unneeded olio
That had to go
On what allegory?
This ink must flow
To examine its lead
Its sturdiness is fed
Cleaning with thought
As is needed
The good is treated
As if weeded
But not to etiolate
With too much etiquette
Or the creative trait
Would meet its fate
For tragedy and joy
Equally annoy
They need what the other has done
Neither being anything without the other one
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