The poor sooty chimney cleaner who shouts from a top; <br />' Oh! These trampled flowers cry irksomely <br />But the inhuman machines never stop the rotation <br />And crush the soft petals vigorously. <br />My vigilance is in vain as I am totally helpless <br />And the proprietor is useless.' <br /> <br />To my poet friend Duncan.Wyllie <br /> <br />* [ Where it goes the human fragrance? ]<br /><br />nimal dunuhinga<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-perfume-factory/
