by Aaron Tucker

Created on: May 21, 2009

A Wretched Thing

To one is each and each is own,

while willows fly among the stones,

whistling their gentle blows

and gathering together foes.

Chiming in with awe and ease,

as if the sun had second thee,

haltering the cringe of He,

who sat along together free.

While waving signs of disbelief,

they cursed and merged so violently,

that even sea men hadn't seen,

the kinds of things which happening.

But 'tis alas the finishing,

which fell among the empty swings,

for all the deeds worth punishing,

the man whom sat a wretched thing.

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