User Review( votes)
written by: Gabrielle Tetreault
What ravage is done in London
As they grow pretty sexually.
Souls burdened with desire
And weeping internally, are abandoned.
Beauty is lost, and passing dreams flee.
As the wall crumbles
I am humbled, thinking
Idols are made of clay.
Nominated Poet of the year, International Society of Poets — in Anaheim, California.