At The Very Door Poem by Edward Kofi Louis
At The Very Door
Stripes,
Bruised!
Iniquities,
To fulfil that which was spoken;
At the very door.
Wickedness! !
Of Mankind;
Lying in bed,
Crying!
Sick with fever
But the campaign is over.
Monday, May 21, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: sickness,weakness,wickedness,writing,crying
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5/6/2024 1:56:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
