Time's Fallow Poem by Lev Brekhman
Time's Fallow
All the sins of the world,
On this wide round face.
You could take a skateboard,
Use the face for a race.
Sins are here akin to ash,
Time's fallow leaves a-burn.
Nothing remains from the flesh,
Take care it's never your turn.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: irony
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5/5/2024 5:27:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
