Daymare Poem by Lev Brekhman
Daymare
On the brink of an explosion, silent
Walks a man along the street.
Mind a-glittering is trident,
Anybody can he meet.
But the absence of a meeting,
Is a never-ending stress.
Spark is needed, quick and fleeting,
End this sordid, sour mess.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: irony
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5/4/2024 8:52:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
