The poet widows in front of my eyes,
And his are lost,
I blame the cruel world
But himself is to blame
For he has fallen
Onto earth
And his heart beats
In the right compass
Like it should be
His words are used
And abused,
Murdered by fools
Death, once more, triumphs.
He lost against himself.
And I, I lost him.
A.R. Brixton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poet-widows-in-front-of-my-eyes/
