Classic poem of the day
Life is flying from me, not stopping an hour, and Death is making great strides following my track. The days about me and the days passed over me, are bringing me desolation, and the days to come will be the same surely.
All things that I am bearing in mind, and all things I am in dread of, are keeping me in troubles, in this way one time, in that way another time, so that if I wasn't taking pity on my own self it's long ago I'd have given up my life.
If my dark heart has any sweet t......
Member poem of the day
There were disguised women soldiers, back in the days of cannons, muskets, and hardtack, she fought. Pin-up girls in 1940's calendars and on war planes, while their sisters marched, and flew planes, she fought. Candy apple red lipstick, white gloves and pearls, pastel pillbox hats, paper baby shower decorations, demure, like Marilyn, yet resolute, apron with embroidered flowers, she fought. Policewomen in combat on the streets, she, firefighter, rivulets of sweat down her......
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