So Petty, The Concerns Of Man - Poem by H.J. Shreeve
So petty, the concerns of man
That I would bore out my ears
For but a brief silence
Gouge my eyes,
With glowing iron
Of your brighter tomorrow.
The fruit has grown bland,
full of pips and rot.
Once warm, sweet milk
Now Curdles in mouth
I no longer find pleasure in taste
So empty, The talk of man,
That I would tear out my tongue,
To be excused from reply,
Savoring my speechless silence
Sever my nose,
And become your scentless apprentice.
Here, I am among no one.
Here, I am a wanderer, dazed, lost
Comments about So Petty, The Concerns Of Man by H.J. Shreeve
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You