Poetry / Poets

The Man Made of Grey by Edward O’Dwyer

The man made of grey
is out there,

and it is best to stay clear of him,
out of his blighted,

colourless presence,
beyond reach

of his grasping, lightless hands.
The stories of him are mostly true,

the grey face,
grey coat sweeping

grey pavement,
his eyes, everything,

one shade of grey or another,
plague.

But you see only the surface
of his disease,

inside, too, is grey,
heart and mind and soul,

such grey.
Look you how

even sun fails
against his implacable pallor,

and for Heaven’s sake
stay clear of him.

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