Email to sign up to receive news and updates

Found Poetry 314


I'll adjust to the bustle
though dustcovered
an old man rusting
thrust into the new

the old is just a blasted filament
or the top of a gray rock pile

this very moment I'll close the file
and enjoy my final stop and smile

This poem was created from Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. Click here to get Leaves of Grass.

Please anonymously VOTE on the content you have just read:


Please show me a randomly selected poem

If you enjoyed any of my content, please consider supporting it in a variety of ways: