Emily Dickinson

I Sometimes Drop It, For A Quick

poem 708

I sometimes drop it, for a Quick The Thought to be alive Anonymous Delight to know And Madder to conceive Consoles a Woe so monstrous That did it tear all Day, Without an instant’s Respite ‘Twould look too far to Die

Comment Section just now

Feel free to be first to leave comment.

8/2200 - 0