On The Edge Poem by Lev Brekhman
On The Edge
Something happened. I can feel it.
Somewhere blood is spilled again.
Men and women blindly milling,
Not expecting bloody rain.
Nobody else aware?
Or the habit is too strong?
Under God's unmoving stare,
Here we live, just a mindless throng.
Monday, October 20, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: irony
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8/2/2025 7:39:08 PM # 1.0.0
