deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wounds at Agincourt
The scars I bear
beneath my sleeves
bespeak of wounds inflicted
on my flesh
so long ago
on Crispin's Day
at Agincourt
within that battle’s fray.
And yet I’ve felt
no pain from them
in all the years since then
despite how deep
those slicings were.
For what they did,
as Harry said they would,
was Gentle me.
beneath my sleeves
bespeak of wounds inflicted
on my flesh
so long ago
on Crispin's Day
at Agincourt
within that battle’s fray.
And yet I’ve felt
no pain from them
in all the years since then
despite how deep
those slicings were.
For what they did,
as Harry said they would,
was Gentle me.
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