Classic poem of the day
MY GRANDMOTHER , she, at the age of eighty-three,
One day in May was taken ill and died;
And after she was dead the will of course was read
By a lawyer as we all stood side by side.
To my brother, it was found, she had left a hundred pound,
The same unto my sister, I declare;
But when it came to me the lawyer said, “I see
She has left to you her old armchair.”
Chorus:
How they tittered, how they chaffed,
How my brother and......
Member poem of the day
Unbelieved unbelieved
I worked the hair right off my head
My lover smells like must
I must go work again
Because i love to live
Or hate to die
My hair was so dark and full
How i came to be with you
Now the sun pours
Through the window
Through skin and skull
into brain
Unbelieved unbelieved
Every day is a victory
I hang from a ledge
Over a violent ocean
You hold my head when i cry
I cry but do not fall
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