“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label hoarders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hoarders. Show all posts
Friday, September 18, 2015
The stuff we're made of
The things that make the People
Gathered by Hunger
and insatiable growls
and Justified, Need
The goods are Good
And stuff matters
The Hunter and The Gatherer
tied at the waste
Harmonize their Note
A Mantra of Meager and Impoverished
and chorus off key-then the dreams shatter
Leaving you Naked-
(This poem is a mimicry of Emily Dickinson's #729, The Props assist the House)
Image By en:User:Smm650 (en:File:General Picture.JPG) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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