Email firstname.lastname@example.org to sign up to receive news and updates
Found Poetry 340
we begun to be under the gun no wonder we're wounded from bullets that graze with undertones of thunder hundreds of bundles in mounds the undaunted soundless in undeniable ground you gaze around and pound and plead profoundly but no one who leads can be found
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:Like:
Please show me a randomly selected poem
If you enjoyed any of my content, please consider supporting it in a variety of ways: