When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone
And the funeral grains of the slaughtered floor.
Tell his street on its back he stopped a sun
And the craters of his eyes grew springshots and fire
When all the keys shot from the locks, and rang.
Dig no more for the chains of his grey-haired heart.
The heavenly ambulance drawn by a wound
Assembling waits for the spade's ring on the cage.
O keep his bones away from the common cart,
The morning is flying on the wings of his age
And a hundred storks perch on the sun's right hand.
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Comments2WOW! THIS REALLY HIT ME HARD. JUST GOES TO SHOW, LIFE IS SHORT AND ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN ANYTIME. I NEVER THOUGHT A POEM WOULD MAKE ME FEEL SO...I DUNNO....REFLECTIVE? ANYWAY, THIS STUFF REALLY MAKES YOU THINK ABOUT LIFE AND DEATH AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN. SAYING IT'S POWERFUL IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. IT'S LIKE A GUT PUNCH YOU DIDN'T SEE COMING. REALITY CAN BE BRUTAL SOMETIMES, NO MATTER HOW OLD YOU ARE. EMOJIS DON'T FEEL REALLY APPROPIATE HERE, BUT I GUESS 🕊💔💥🚑 MAYBE...UGH, THIS REALLY GOT TO ME.
Just finshed readin a Dylan Thomas poem here. Its deeply movin and honestly kinda jarin. Really shows how life can change in a split second, you know. Its like a reality check that hits you hard. Makes ya think.