Stephen Vincent Benet
Pennsylvania / United States
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Ghosts Of A Lunatic Asylum

Rating: 3.2

Here, where men's eyes were empty and as bright
As the blank windows set in glaring brick,
When the wind strengthens from the sea -- and night
Drops like a fog and makes the breath come thick;

By the deserted paths, the vacant halls,
One may see figures, twisted shades and lean,
Like the mad shapes that crawl an Indian screen,
Or paunchy smears you find on prison walls.

Turn the knob gently! There's the Thumbless Man,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Stephinie Mckenzie 11 February 2010

i feel like i can connect with this poem it speaks to me in more then just words i feel what Stephen is saying to us in my soul.

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