Author J. A. Pott 'T IS not your age that makes me cold, That's no impediment; But you are something more than old, You're dead to all intent. To Hecuba or Niobe My heart perhaps had warmed, But not when their humanity Was utterly transformed. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments