Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many
I had not thought death had undone, so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where St Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
-- T S Eliot 1922
Who's Online
We have 85 guests and 0 members online
You are an anonymous user. You can register for free by clicking here
This web site was made with PostNuke, a web portal system written in PHP. PostNuke is Free Software released under the GNU/GPL license. You can syndicate our news using the file backend.php
