Explore "Poems: Disabled" by Wilfred Owen on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark, / And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey, / Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park / Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn, / Voices of play and pleasure after day, / Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.
About this time Town used to swing so gay / When glow-lamps budded in the light-blue trees / And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim, / -- In the old times, before he threw away his knees. / Now he will never feel again how slim / Girls' waists are, or how warm their subtle hands, / All of them touch him like some queer disease.