What in our lives is burnt
In the fire of this?
The heart-s dear granary?
The much we shall miss?
Three lives hath one life -
Iron, honey, gold.
The gold, the honey gone -
Left is the hard and cold.
Iron are our lives
Molten right through our youth.
A burnt space through ripe fields
A fair mouth-s broken tooth
August 1914
Isaac Rosenberg
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Poem topics: fire, heart, life, space, I miss you, dear, mouth, cold, hard, broken, youth, honey, gold, iron, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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