In the town, a clinic
On the steps, a woman
With wild eyes, her head
In her clutching hands
Her weary lover has brought her to be healed
Please, God, let this mind be sealed
For a time at least shield me
From myself let my self be concealed
Welcome to the amateur solipsism poetry hour. Fear the mindspew. Time for your lawnmower headswap.
For non-original content that I've linked from elsewhere, all bets are off.
Here dies another day
ReplyDeleteDuring which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world around me;
And tomorrow begins another.
Why am I allowed two?