Classic poem of the day
They live 'neath the curtain
Of fir woods and heather,
And never take hurt in
The wildest of weather,
But best they love Autumn — she's brown as — themselves —
And they are the brownest of all the brown elves;
When loud sings the West Wind,
The bravest and best wind,
And puddles are shining in all the cart ruts,
They turn up the dead leav......
Member poem of the day
I love my dad,
but my dad loves spending time with his friends.
I love my mom,
but my mom loves to gossip about others.
I love my aunty,
but she always seems to love my elder sister more.
And me?
I sit here, lonely —
longing for love, especially a parent's love.
Grieving quietly,
waiting for someone to notice.
Sometimes, being alone
feels better than being with those
who don’t see your wor...
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