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Recantation

Rating: 4.5
'Tea leaves I've given up,
And that crooked line
On the queen's palm
Is no more my concern.
On my black pilgrimage
This moon-pocked crystal ball
Will break before it help;
Rather than croak out
What's to come,
My darling ravens are flown.
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COMMENTS
Suman Pokhrel 13 October 2017
Not wealth nor wisdom stands Above the simple vein, The straight mouth. Go to your greenhorn youth Before time ends And do good With your white hands.' Immense!
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