Wednesday, September 06, 2017

Shrapnel no.65

They take spring lambs too young
Buds touched by frost grow flowers with a twist
The caged bird sings a cruder song
Chicks fall to hawks ere they fly the nest.
For there are men of force
Who so desire beauty
But fear its addiction more.

How the fear and the power felt
The spoiled reward of shame and guilt
Four pillars that, great St. Peter's built.
Fired like this, what warmth would melt?
For among us all
There are those who so desire love
But fear its addiction more.

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