George Howard (14.02.53 / Pontefract (Broken Bridge) , UK)
From a Fool's lips
r swells, born from frustration, tinged with anger,
And circled with pain and helplessness,
Springs forth o'er cheek and another then yet another,
A piteous sound, a cry not for help, but of selfish emotion,
Soft but strong, as a diamond blade, cleaving the heart.
With an icy stroke.
The shockwaves bathe my brain,
'Cut out my tongue! '
'Why have I done this? ! '
Why are men such fools?
My arms enfold, a ring of protection, that none dare try
Foolish words, from foolish lips.
Try to gather up the broken pieces.
At last the pain subsides,
But foolish men
This vessel will not forever mend
Comments about this poem (From a Fool's lips by George Howard )
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