Little Wolfie

by Maxwell S. Kunz - Not entered

Little Wolfie Rasied His Frail Hand, Weary From The Work Of Angel'sTenderly Shaping Word's Of Old Into Now Familar Words Of Aria's We Now know.His Head Ached With The Harpsichord From The Heavens Now Raining Upon His Head Like An Fall Shower,Grey And Cold. He His LAst Was Soon To Be. He Turned His Poor Body To The Wall And Died On 2 Plus Three.

Reason for writing:

    I Was Inspired By The Life And Times Of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1996-12-15 19:52:44
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:39:11
Poem ID: 46218

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