The Matador
I long for the life of the matador
Where the delicate balance of life
Is determined only by whoever's blood
Covers a hundred roses
A life where the cries of thousands
Allow me to see with closed eyes
And adoration lifts me to heaven
Heaven - where the sword alone
Could never take me
Yes - the life of the matador is a privileged life
For only they know that the blade
Lies behind the cape
poem by C.S. Smith
Added by Poetry Lover
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