Classic poem of the day
As we went along
The mist gathered upon the valleys,
And it even rained
All the way to the head of Patterdale;
But there was never a drop upon my habit larger
Than the smallest pearls upon a lady's ring.
Member poem of the day
Horrified by the mirror
Taking heavy steps forward
Every morning, comes a girl to the lake
To take a bow and soothe herself
Spend sometime, embracing
Her acid-burnt face in water
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