So Petty, The Concerns Of Man - Poem by H.J. Shreeve
So petty, the concerns of man
That I would bore out my ears
For but a brief silence
Gouge my eyes,
With glowing iron
Of your brighter tomorrow.
The fruit has grown bland,
full of pips and rot.
Once warm, sweet milk
Now Curdles in mouth
I no longer find pleasure in taste
So empty, The talk of man,
That I would tear out my tongue,
To be excused from reply,
Savoring my speechless silence
Sever my nose,
And become your scentless apprentice.
Here, I am among no one.
Here, I am a wanderer, dazed, lost
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