This is an interpretation of the poem Disabled by Wilfred Owen
He sat in a wheelchair waiting for dark, shivered in his suit of grey. Through the park voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn.
About this time Town used to swing so gay, Now he will never feel how slim girls waists are.
He's lost his colour very far from here, Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry
One time he liked a blood smear down his leg, After the matches carried shoulder high
Now he will spend a few sick years in institutes, And do what things the rules consider wise, And take whatever pity they may dole
Tonight he noticed how the womans eyes Passed form him to the strong men that were whole. How cold and late it is! Why dont they come And put him to bed?
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