There's anger in the fallen-grass, And rage out on the plain; For dew that falls like morning guilt, For words that drip, and stain -- No varnished lies can cover this, No magic twists of pen: For we are too far down the path, And can't go back Again
To share is human:
Really interesting poem, thanks for sharing! I am probably not going to look at a lawnmower in the same way again now.
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