Amen

Ah, death,
You hateful color,
Why do you stare,
Back at me?

Would I might go,
Into the world,
Out into the wide
World green.

Would I might pluck,
a single leaf,
Weep over every blade
of grass.

Oh death,
You hateful color,
Why have you bound me,
So fast?

by Norman Lloyd West

Other poems of NORMAN LLOYD WEST (2)

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