Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.218.2.200

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

A dead man and newspapers 

It was an extremely cold winter in 1947 the country was exhausted 
and the German army who did construction work, building new roads
repairing the old ones had kept many civilians in employment
But the army had surrendered and taken the train home
Mother was not one sitting still; she secured two newspaper rounds 
one in the morning and one in the afternoon
I was her helper, more I think, so she could keep an eye on me
In a courtyard, I saw a man sitting on the steps by the entrance
of a house, he sat very still and had ice on his eyebrows and lips
I called my mother, and she said the man had frozen to death, left to
find a shop with a phone (not many people had phones back then)
to ring the police.
The law rang the doorbell a woman opened up; the law said:
“Do you know this man?” She looks at the body and screams
She explains, “he came home drunk; I wouldn’t let him in until
he sobered up.” Well, one officer said he was sober now they
carried the frozen man, still in a sitting position, into the van.
As I didn’t hear the conversation, I made it up.
Why didn’t they put the man by the fireside so. he could thaw
and come back to life? No mother said his heart froze;
 the soul had left his body; what is the soul do? I have one.
Yes, you have, like when you tell me lies but insist it is true
when you go to bed, a voice tells, you lied, you can ignore
this voice, but if you do, the inner voice will harden and you
will end up like the drunken man and freeze to death
We’re not a religious household, but mother believed Jesus
was the first socialist who took on the Jews and was put to death
What do I know? She also said Santa Claus was an errand boy
for capitalism making us poorer by buying things not needed.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required