Poems from Orwell's Protege
The purest joy
Is found amidst
The colorful rays
Of the stained glass panes
Of my church.
Singing and dancing
Shouting praises to my King...
They say there's a fee
We must pay to be free,
But if thousands must die
Is the price too high?
Blood and tears are the cost
Or else our...
Black as pitch,
Silent as the grave--
Only murky outlines of people
Softly rustling in their seats.
Curtains squeakily, speedily open,...
My heart is healthy
A doctor would say,
But I know it's not healthy
In the most important way.
It beats and it pumps,
It does its job...