Sunday, March 10, 2013

Death Comments

Rating: 5.0

Death is the anchor, by which our sins are tied
It is the executor of our foolish pride
It is only by realization of our mortal senses
We stop bickering with walls, fighting with fences
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Alfred Barna
COMMENTS
Dr Antony Theodore 16 May 2019

Take away the magnifying glass, we are but so small For the greatest gift we can give to ourselves, is to keep perspective Everything has worth, there is nothing in existence that is rejected. very nice poem. tony

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Howard Savage 20 September 2016

Great poem with a strong and profound sense of emotions. Reality driven.

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