Classic poem of the day
Unloved I love, unwept I weep,
Grief I restrain, hope I repress;
Vain is this anguish, fixed and deep,
Vainer desires or means of bliss.
My life is cold, love's fire being dead;
That fire self-kindled, self-consumed;
What living warmth erewhile it shed,
Now to how drear extinction doomed!
Devoid of charm how could I dream
My unasked love would e'er return?
What fate, what influence lit the flame
I still feel inly, deeply bu......
Member poem of the day
Grandfather's house, knocked to the ground - to dust: The windows wept when the bulldozer came Timeworn and dirty and wheezing black smoke, Just like the drab mills where grandfather moiled. Children play in the intriguing debris Where, once, children played on the garden path, Where grandfather told stories of past things And the children listened wide eyed, in awe. The door remains standing, creaking, ajar, As it yawns in the twilight of the gloom And the children knock though no......
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