![]() Step In Time To The RevolutionA Poem by icelandicblue
She smelled of sour milk
and cabbage, both refusing to march out the open door, stiff yellowed wallpaper peeled away from horse hair plaster in daisy-head neglect. Regimes have cut new faces into portraits, but life remains a stale-crusted breadbasket. Peasants are what they have always been, stepping stones to their own revolutionary dead end. © 2013 icelandicblueFeatured Review
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6 Reviews Added on March 16, 2013 Last Updated on March 17, 2013 Author![]() icelandicblueBostonAboutI do not accept any new friend requests unless we have read and commented on each others poetry. No exceptions. I have enough homework as it is. I expect reciprocity in our exchanges. Read my work and.. more..Writing
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