UnPoetia/Recent

Triste et malum est

Bent double, under luggage and bags,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through queues,
Till on the airport lights we turned our backs,
And towards our distant taxi, well overdue.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their phones,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the tones
Of a cough coming loudly behind...

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