Hawthorne
The warmth I feel is undeserved
There is a place for me reserved
No tiles to head off wind or rain
Just hawthorn hedging for my pain

No sheets to comfort through the night
A lonesome pathway is my plight
My efforts now stave off the day
When nature gets its chance to play

Then it will twist and turn its knife
With others blind unto my strife
Till brittle bones give out all strength
Then my time ends what’re its length


Comments:
 
kt6550   kt6550 wrote
on 3/18/2010 10:46:21 PM
I enjoy your work.

StarPoet   StarPoet wrote
on 12/1/2009 3:36:32 AM
Nice piece. The pain and hopelessness is touching.

MOJO   MOJO wrote
on 11/30/2009 8:20:59 PM
I like the raw pain that the work shows. It seems real to me. However, the style itself appears to be a bit disjointed at times. Good wok.

markBrad
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Rating: 7.5/10

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