The year <br />(too tired to continue) <br /> <br />limps to its <br />conclusion. <br /> <br />It has its usual crop <br />of natural & man-made disasters <br /> <br />wars...famines <br />etc., etc., etc. <br /> <br />the inhuman-ness of being <br />human <br /> <br />leaving me <br />like a seashell <br /> <br />in its tsunami <br />of Time <br /> <br />yet another piece <br />of human wreckage <br /> <br />mere <br />flotsam <br /> <br />as the paralysis <br />grips me tighter <br /> <br />a hard rain falling <br />on the appeals <br /> <br />of the New Year's <br />bells.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/new-year-s-bells-for-onelia/
