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Ides of March - Twenty Twelve

by Matt Forget

And so this day, the Ides of March
Sit upon our souls
In the day by the eve of thy great St. Patrick
Wretched this day could be
Though pondered I sit thinking
Shat, a bird shall do on my weary shoulder
Star from the east there shall fly
Innocence granted to those due right
And I see greatness of future to come
Only poetry, my friends, fortune my inner peace.


Posted on 03/15/2012
Copyright © 2024 Matt Forget

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Lori Blair on 03/17/12 at 01:00 AM

and so peace there will be..wonderful piece..thank you!

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