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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Cultural >> ID #999034 |   |
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Oh, we of tattered plumage through no fault of our own.
Fallen into hades as though sundered by a stone. The leaders that we followed behaved of lowest rank. While the path we hoped for upward to the depths now we have sank. Tis not the grasp of ankles pulling with the weight of boulders. Nay my friends tis feckless leaders standing on our shoulders.
© Copyright 2005 K. I. Smet (UN: k-i-smet at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
K. I. Smet has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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