The Day the Wolves Came by Jessica Ni Leacai

I on this hill of hatred, harming
myself for missions unfulfilled,
These culling chastisements, I
cast on my burdened back,
and my words wasted,no
worth nor use to you.

Expelled from ears, unwilling
for my merciless devices,
I am but wasted material, meaningless
garments no one would garnish.
Slowly they sear me in half, my soul
no longer my loyal saviour.

This poem can be read on poetry.com- http://poetry.com/poems/350076

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About jessienileacai

Irish speaker and artist. I love music, art, languages,literature, history, travel, photography, and comedy. I love Ireland, my heritage, the old ways and the beauty and people of this small island and its surrounding tiny islands
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