Banished like ivory with no blood
Gray swamps in Manchester crowds
Bits and pieces of the new stained glass
Now I am one of the lost
We gather together frozen in life
T S Elliot was too cold for me
Yes the “Ice man comes”
Sleep, the old photos have eyes
Someone lights a candle
We see we are all alike
Do you really believe in prayer?
We all stare at the grandfather clock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem