Bed Bugs In The Handtwo Of God Poem by Bill Grace
Bed Bugs In The Handtwo Of God
We are bed bugs in the hand of God
that force prefers to let us go
Israel's history is that it was always so.
A tiny wedge into the mind divine
idols of silver and gold easier to find
and life has taught that
'Man is the measure of all things' (Alexander Pope)
simply is not true
two World Wars - an unsettled world
beckon us to more
far better than the human which only wishes to settle score.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/28/2024 3:15:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
