Poor Whip-Hands To A Stock Poem by james watkin

Poor Whip-Hands To A Stock



Poor whip-hands to a stock
Of emotions are we.
Herders, horned of their own
Breeds of ferocity.

Til they, as love, sneak up
To be roped and broke in
Mounts of lusts are best left
To bolt away as sin.

Saturday, February 16, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: emotions
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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