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6 May 2020 | |
History |
War Poet I am the man who looked for peace and found My own eyes barbed. I am the man who groped for words and found An arrow in my hand. I am the builder whose firm walls surround A slipping land. When I grow sick or mad Mock me not nor chain me: When I reach for the wind Cast me not down: Though my face is a burnt book And a wasted town. Sidney Keyes (HS 35-40) Written in March 1942 |