"There are confessable agonies, sufferings of which one can positively be proud. Of bereavement, of parting, of the sense of sin and the fear of death the poets have eloquently spoken. They command the world's sympathy. But there are also discreditable anguishes, no less excruciating than the others, but of which the sufferer dare not, cannot speak. The anguish of thwarted desire, for example."
skillz tha poet
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Monday, December 5, 2011
A Woman
Give her a boquet,
those cemetry stolen roses in royal ribbons tied,
and your heart in village hand-wood-box made,
and she shall stride for the death scented flowers,
and leave a treasure rarely found,
for that be a woman..
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