Macintosh In Hand

Macintosh in hand, stride in his pace
Umbrella above, respect in his gait
Sorrowful his eyes which do not rest
At the doings of the human rat race
Brother's killing brothers
Oh lord what have we become?
No better than animals
But even they spare their sons
Death, following orphans and widows
Pain paves its way for days to come




Poetry by Nabeela Altaf
Read 1417 times
Written on 2014-02-06 at 09:13

Tags Death  Pain 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Definitely: You have literary knockout punch!
2014-08-24



Bravo for putting this into words.
2014-02-06