Woe, Hand On Head Poem by james watkin

Woe, Hand On Head



This sight of a burdensome woe;
Kept in the dark ever.
When not smudging, as silhouettes
Wealth's windowed impressions!
To earthly life, indelible.
All night, lower, lower
With hand on head, left slipping there;
Downward soul-dead regions.

Saturday, July 23, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: woe
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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