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Isaac Rosenberg - The Troop Ship
Work rating: Low

Grotesque and queerly huddled
Contortionists to twist
The sleepy soul to a sleep,
We lie all sorts of ways
And cannot sleep.
The wet wind is so cold,
And the lurching men so careless,
That, should you drop to a doze,
Winds` fumble or men`s feet
Are on your face.
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