I believe
by TD Euwaite
if God was made of mortar and stone
would he fall from the sky?
and if the dreams can really die
then at their funerals, please don't cry
pick the pieces up and march along
and sing a dirge to love
...and the dove of piece
has such scrawny meat
enough for you to eat...alone...tonight...
yet the night festers when bereft of dream and scrawny meat seems to be mortar and stone................yet with beautiful imagery when wrought with ingenuity, well penned, thanks for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i believes you have the ummmph....to write..........keep up pal