Cycles of Woe
Pain stabs
Loves dies
Eye hurts
Heart cries
Wits end
Anguish again
Will Bends
Always the same
Fight back
Lift head
Take charge
Stand instead
Mind firm
Eyes clear
They squirm
No fear
Thus the cycle seem to go
A never ending tale of woe
Followed soon by recovery
How to end such tiresome misery
One sets the threshing wheel in play
Till the other has but to give way
But once the scars have grown thicker skin
The weakest is now stronger agin
(c) Rhumour
May 18th 2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem