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MODERN QUIXOTE His rusted and dented armor Does not fit The corporate dress code. Nobody travels by horse any more. Windmills and dragons Are in short supply. And damsels, Even distressed ones, Are too liberated to need knights. In a world where Poetry lacks rhyme and form, He tilts on, The unrepentant romantic, Unwilling to quit the quest, Knowing if chivalry dies, So do we all. ~Marilyn Gordon~ September 20, 2001
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