One hand clings dependently
to his cane. The other clutches desperately
to his overcoat; his shield from the unforgiving elements.
His bleak defence weakens
with every blow,
his stronghold penetrated
with every lash.
His assailants are relentless.
An iron first crushes his frail being,
an onslaught of acid dissolves the spirit of a man once strong
now shaken.
Beaten?
Fragility in a ferocious world,
A tiny shard amidst the debris.
Yet he stands.
i really liked this piece waaay too much, and oh how wise from you to descripe theone man's soul dessolving in acid, i assume that fits bec, liquids were never been able to be caught in one's hand (as a concrete material) , and simply that's how the soul is... you never catch, but yet it dessolves...... thank you very much for that piece, give us more, much respect..., Mousheera Shafik
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very sad poem about a strong man. Hopefully he finds his way to a meaningful and happy life. A '10! ' Best Wishes, Marilyn