AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

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AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

Yes! i saw it,what? it is

i saw it glow like night fire

that shining the black glove

it will chant her name in mimick

like small child learn the dialect

that had been spoken by her ancestra

i saw it i say

during the inimical antenals of her radio

that present the program of sufferers'suffering

as they are crying through their heartpain

who will help wipe their tears before

it turns to an ocean that will trouble

her old value in great shake

as the old back to odd

and new face towards the nile

fleeing to hide the season of plenty

 

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Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

truedreams’s Poems (14)

Title Comments
Title Comments
AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL 0
HELP IN THE HAND OF HELPER 0
YOUR BEUTY IS BEAUTIFUL -6
WALKING STICK 0
SING THE LULLABY 0
TELL THE HENCH-MEN 0
WE ARE THE VICTORS 0
I SAW IT THEN 0
AFFECTING 0
ANGRY OF THUNDER 0
THE CUNNING FATHER 0
UNDER THE CROWN THORN 0
YOUR NAME 0
IN THE MIND OF MY MIND 0