I understand the man by Ann Wood
I understand the man,to whom he sometimes wants,
to turn like a dog.
The world to ride,
as if it were a hoarfrost.
The moment comes,
when the knife rests against the bone,
when life stuck his fingers in his neck,
grip, clench.
Stretching forces to tear.
The heart turns into a stone.
And with the last forces you protect,
of faith the thin flame.
Poetry by Ann Wood
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Written on 2018-12-14 at 17:54
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