![]() |
Disabled | |
|
|
He
sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark, And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey, Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn, Voices of play and pleasure after day, Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.
|
![]() Wilfred Owen |
|
Other texts by Owen: Exposure |
||