I closed my hands upon a moth
And when I drew my palms apart,
Instead of dusty, broken wings
I found a bleeding human heart.
I crushed my foot upon a worm
That had my garden for its goal,
But when I drew my foot aside
I found a dying human soul.
Beware
Dora Sigerson Shorter
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Poem topics: heart, soul, garden, goal, broken, human, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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