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Tags:
  • Emotional
    • ,
  • Passion

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     I cannot sing
    And I wouldn't dream
    to raise a voice in front of the Queen!

    I cannot hear
    Though I'd shrill on my way down the hill

    I cannot run
    It's not such fun,
    what with not getting those hottylicious buns!

    I cannot see
    The way most people see

    Yet I see many have revealed;
    blotting memories out,
    and let them not be healed
    or dealt with

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    M4n1s’s Poems (10)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
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    ...    		 0 12/13/2009
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    Saved by the angels 0 12/13/2009
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    Starlings 0 06/10/2009
    Anaesthetic 0 12/13/2009
    A Housewife's Moment of Sanity 1 12/13/2009
    One Lucky Immigrant 1 05/28/2009
    Auschwitz - Gaza 1 05/28/2009
    To an "ex-Mum" 1 05/28/2009
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