Classic poem of the day
Please you, excuse me, good five-o'clock people,
I've lost my last hatful of words,
And my heart's in the wood up above the church steeple,
I'd rather have tea with the birds.
Gay Kate's stolen kisses, poor Barnaby's scars,
John's losses and Mary's gains,
Oh! what do they matter, my dears, to the stars
Or the glow-worms in the lanes!
I'd rather lie under the tall elm-trees,
With old rooks talking loud overhead,
T......
Member poem of the day
I couldn't rhyme this feeling of despair, It's a tarnish like none other, a convulsion of my nature, Unconsciously I contrived, This feeling of despair, To be so very near, I looked for god under its shadows, I jabbed and stabbed, How could a god so near, Have me famished for his love and fear, Alas I found, Man is meat and despair is hound, Cunning days leave me counting, Passing hours fueled with longing, Sonorous shill of my heart I deplete, For under all this abhor, I have f......
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