shadow of a dream
what should have beenthe quiet hours of our declining years
have now become full of angst and poverty
the rewards of a working life withheld
to increase the wealth of those
whose words cripple truth
whose greed knows no mercy
whose pockets are already overfull
what should have been
a quiet and meditative autumn
has now become 'the winter of our discontent'
tattered clothes on freezing bones
stand as a warning
to those who long for justice
to those who wish for peace
whose tears cry out for freedom
Poetry by Wumbulu
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Written on 2014-01-15 at 16:36
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Lawrence Beck |
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by Wumbulu Latest textsThe Syllogism of the MadLook Around There When Between the Posts Love Dies |
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