My Limbs Are Hanging Useless

Here's a poem that Gracie over at Wild Grace wrote in response to my post yesterday on Grief on the Heels of Grief:
I hear the lion roaring My face is in his mane Limbs are hanging useless And eyes are filled with pain The tears have flowed And stained his coat My fists have beat his chest And though he has not drawn a claw I hear the lion roar
Thanks Gracie!

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