I am known for hating poetry, but even an insensitive soul like me has a favorite poem. I stumbled into it today while organizing the files in my computer and decided to share it with you guys. So, here it is the favorite poem of someone who mostly hates poetry.
Lead – George Bacovia
The lead coffins were lying sound asleep,
And lead flowers and funeral garments –
I stood all alone in the crypt… and it was wind…
And so, the lead wreaths creaked.
My love of lead was twisted sound asleep,
On flowers of lead and I began to shout
I stood alone besides the corpse… and it was cold…
And he was hanging down his wings of lead.
