The Creature's Stare

You stroke the fur of the big fine dog.
Looking way down into its eyes, you speak,
Pointing out for me the enormous sorrow
That's continuously fixed upon us.

When angels look deep in men's eyes,-
I replied-beneath their noble brows,
They will ask about the same thing in dismay
And turn away for they cannot bear it.

poem by Franz Werfel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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