"Because I could not stop for death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves,
and immortality."
-Emily Dickinson
I speak of things i feel, so primordial, that structured expression kills the essence. I speak of things i see. so easy to ignore, yet, so crucial I find release in the seeming disorder of my Poetry; the subtle signs i see.
7 smoke wisps:
Oh my god!!!
After reading it for the second time...every word hit me so hard!!!
Beautifully neurotic!!
Amazing!!
"The carriage held but just ourselves,
and immortality" - Brilliant!!! Simply brilliant!!
true true brilliance all of them.
my dear
neurotic poets, misunderstod
in their own times
and idols in ours.
*sigh
y the cruel world!
really *sigh
Oh, pity. You don't get any compliments on this one :P
*Emily Dickson
Very well written!
@unsung you are not that good with evil retorts, so dont bother, just be nice and sweet like you always are :P
and on behalf of Emily Dickinson, her ardent admirer says thank you :D
Haw, I'm not nice and sweet (all the time).
I can be a TOTAL bitch :->
What the fk is that supossed to mean? so a reaper is on a caridge and picks up people who are meant to die? -.-
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You whisper your name... but i can't hear it.