"Too late to change!" He cried.

"Too late to change!" He cried.

A Poem by andrew mitchell

There was no point
turning a new leaf,
his leaf had dropped
in passing, decayed;
both sides the same.

© 2017 andrew mitchell


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Added on April 8, 2017
Last Updated on April 8, 2017

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



About
Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..