How small are things when the lights go out:
the bill that was paid,
the car that was washed,
and all the domestic out and about,
carry no sizzle or shout.
How trivial are things when the final wood calls:
the garden grows old,
the blood goes soft;
and all the work that was
is frenzy, fizzle and fall.
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Love Poems For The 21st Century
PoetryA collection of poems on the challenges presented by the modern world
