The Dark Knight Rises with an even darker night rising
Dressing outside the trap door, lowering his red-hooded cowl
To conceal his mild mannered dementia from
The audience within his mind. His award winning performance
Will win the adoration of Seven of Nine or eight fifty three
In standard time keeping measurement; timeless creeps
When they creep in vicious cycles; copycats welcome during matinee
performance.
The End
Go on to next poem by Mark Edgemon: Boo
Return to: The Works of Mark Edgemon
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