Harsh black letters stand stark
Against a glaring green.
They bear heated, hateful words
Devoid of logic or meaning.
On a dusty street corner
Hollow men hold these obscenities.
Unfounded accusations, hyperbole,
Word after word without meaning.
A book open in my lap,
Oshima's words return to me.
Words of hate and hollow men,
Of empty sayings and empty minds,
They speak of a life without meaning.
YOU ARE READING
Melancholia
Poetry"Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility." - William Wordsworth
