She squats, so lost, to gaunt <br />frail, the cost of weeping is <br />knowing, she will not fold you. <br />Into this robe it holds for you, is it. <br /> <br />In it's blindness, it stumbles in, her it <br />clutching her robe, her skirt, she looks, <br />as heaven opens, it is never old again. <br /> <br />The hope of the world, it's joy is worn, <br />between the seams, the counts, fulminates <br />insinuate, <br />thin threads your this, robe forever plain.<br /><br />Is It Poetry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/plain-robe/
