Classic poem of the day
Rose to the living is more than, A
Sumptuous wreaths to the dead;
In filling love's infinite store
A rose to the living is more—
If graciously given before the
Hungering spirit is fled,
A rose to the living is more than
Sumptuous wreaths to the dead.
Rose to the living is more than, A
Sumptuous wreaths to the dead;
In filling love's infinite store
A rose to the living is more—
If graciously given before the
Hu......
Member poem of the day
He taught me how to wield
the weapon made of words—
a blade that kills,
now saving lives,
like it once saved mine.
My own work
pulled me back from the edge.
And in it,
he lives—
my teacher,
the man behind the lines.
Words—
once carved deep in the mind—
outlive the flesh,
outlast the hands
that once shaped them.
His words stopped me
from falling
to the hundred voi...
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