Poem Hunter
The Rat
(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

The Rat

Poem By Edwin Arlington Robinson

The texture of the mix...
Does not sit well on many lips.
Barriars are being broken.
An unspoken mending begins to end...
Divisions and conflicts supported.
With a marketing twist.
Abandoned by many.
While others have druthers,
Not to birth more of it.
Has left the taste for those who wish,
More substance and less ghosts,
To boost and boast...
Empty and expensive visions.
As a loss of cost effectiveness...
Has proven ineffective,
For those intentions meant.
As knuckles grip,
To expose an absence of hemoglobin.

User Rating: 2,8 / 5 ( 37 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

A blood gas, through the wrist, painful but very informative may determine the premature expiration of an already short life span for those, these red ghosts..iip..