1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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