Hawkers Of Agony Poem by Imafidon Mac Henry
Hawkers Of Agony
Oh! you poor thing,
A pitiful fate befalls you,
Treading streets of agony,
Clouded by broken mirrors;
With Joy smashed to pieces
While hawking agony.
Hawking shadows
In scorching sun
Where abounds fires,
Of poor distorted limbs:
And a rain of bullets sticking
Her head out of the window.
Thursday, August 18, 2016
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8/8/2026 4:23:59 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
