Held In History Poem by Christabel McCooey
Held In History
The blaring lights, the gritty air,
The screeching breaks, the rage declared,
Yet in these busy London streets,
I hear the voice of history speak.
She is calm, she is witty,
She speaks with no shame.
She holds the voices of the prophets.
They are here.
They are me and you.
Calmly propheziing. yes we poets are prophets speaking against all the evils of humanity and percieving all that is good and praising them. well written poem. thank you . tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 3:44:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A very well written piece, Christabel