Author Thomas Sheridan I'll write while I have half an eye in my head;I'll write while I live, and I'll write when you're dead.Though you call me a goose, you pitiful slave,I'll feed on the grass that grows on your grave. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments