Reasons Not To Visit Dachau

It would be like a Cessna hitting a mountain;
Weltschmerz; rain falling on a tin roof.
So let me work my garden with burnt hands,
Thoughtless as a spade in cold loam.
Let all words fail as the day reduces.
We all love the holes in which we put our heads.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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Mathis Avatar
August 27, 2014 at 6:17 AM
Nice poem
Philibert Avatar
November 18, 2014 at 9:44 AM
Thanks and best wishes
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