Best Poem of R. C. Welford

To Dream
What is a man to do if his dreams are at war?
If that which he loves, will kill that which he adores?
He cannot choose, for fear of losing the lot,
So he must wait, and break his heart for the shot,
To keep one or other, and to save not his head,
But the space behind his chest. to burn his bed,
Or his . . .
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5 Foot 9 Inches Under
A black and white cadaver,
Hangs atop my door,
From a wire spindle, meat hooks,
If you may. Cuffs dragging on the floor;
A plain tie pin hangs off,
The Windsor like some whore,
Brushing dirt upon the shirt.
So why I neither drag nor,
Yank it back in to it's cupboard,
Or fold it in a . . .
Read the full of 5 Foot 9 Inches Under