1861 Poem by Richard Jarboe
1861
On Good Friday,1861,
Fort Sumter was the first decision done,
Soon disintegration of father, brother and son,
Lincoln made his choice and then,
Down went more than 600 thousand men.
On Good Friday 1865,
Hell spawned a dream Lincoln would tell,
He dreamt of sailing to an unknown horizon,
Four years to the day, having freed the slave,
Lincoln was shot, his destination- the grave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/17/2024 7:45:18 PM # 1.0.0.1119
