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
she is a lot of things:
a poem;
not Leav or Kaur but
something more complicated than words.
a gun-
a machine gun shooting somethings like flowers
or birds who chirped
and her song I do not have to understand.
I listen
with my eyes fixed on her beak while she speak.
I die
everytime her words pierce my ears.
She sings the same song everytime but when she does, I still close my eyes.