Cutting remarksA Poem by andrew mitchell
Cutting remarks.
One could not tell the knife throwers in the crowd. They all appeared the same. Or whose blade sunk the deepest, they all felt the same. So much is read on whisper trails broken on entry, heads cower away boughed, guilty.
© 2016 andrew mitchell |
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1 Review Added on March 31, 2016 Last Updated on March 31, 2016 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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