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The Helping Hand

Topics: classic

Mother, my head is bloody, my breast is red with scars.         Well, foolish son, I told you so, why went you to the wars?         Mother, my soul is crucified, my thirst is past belief.         How are you crucified, my son, betwixt a thief and thief?         Mother, I feel the terror and the loveliness of life.         Tell me of the children, son, and tell me of the wife.         Mother, your face is but a face among a million more.         You're standing on the deck, my son, and looking at the shore.         I lean against the wall, mother, and struggle hard for breath.         You must have heard the step, my son, of the patrolman Death.         Mother, my soul is weary, where is the way to God?         Well, kiss the crucifix, my son, and pass beneath the rod.

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"Mother, my head is bloody, my breast is red with scars...."

This evocative piece by Edgar Lee Masters, titled "The Helping Hand", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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"Antonio loved the Lady Clare.         He caught he..."

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