Author Bertolt Brecht After the wailing had already begun along the walls, their ruin certain, the Trojans fidgeted with bits of wood in the three-ply doors, itsy-bitsy pieces of wood, fussing with them. And began to get their nerve back and feel hopeful. Tags Short Poems 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