Jinge Norvall (Bulawayo)
The Poor Ones
Twas Jack Frost
Who held the land
In his grip of ice and snow
And the poor ones shuddered
In their shivering shacks
Not an ember to warm cold souls..
And the beast that gnawed at their empty guts
Raged on through the merciless night
Ravenous, consuming - as frost on flowers -
The poor ones had faced their last.
Last meal, so meagre.. Last fire in the hearth..
Clinging together, love, at the last.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Hope For Rescue by Jinge Norvall )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley