Classic poem of the day
Hail, clear as crystal to the eyes,
Blandusia's fav'rite spring;
O worthy to receive the prize
Of wine and flow'rs we bring;
To-morrow we shall give thy flood
A kid, whose horns begin to bud,
And fight and wantonness portend:
In vain — his pranks must be no more —
For shortly with his sacred gore
He thy cool stream shall blend.
Thee scorching Sirius cannot touch —
You yield a pleasing shade,
Which for the steers......
Member poem of the day
Everything good always comes to an end
No matter what rules you try to bend
The feeling of failure is constantly within
Trapped in a cycle while trying not to drown in gin
You look in the mirror and barely recognize your own skin
Wanting to rip it off and throw it in a trash bin
Missing the day when you didn’t want to disappear
When there was nothing to lose, nothing to fear
Trying so hard to stay strong and not shed a tear
But the voices are...
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