Hi, my name's Cotton Smith. I'm actually only fourteen years old, but that has not stopped my soul from being saved by poetry. I hope you enjoy this and it touches your heart as much as it has mine.
Among these winters,
There is one so endlessly winter,
Only by wintering through it,
Will your heart survive. more »
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Cotton Smith Poems
I kissed the virgin sky, I sung to the moon a lullaby, A summer mourned my lost, A white frost tossed me to the dead.
Comments about Cotton Smith
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
I kissed the virgin sky,
I sung to the moon a lullaby,
A summer mourned my lost,
A white frost tossed me to the dead.
Sing to me the song to be sung,
About the moon and the sun,
The way the sky gives up its life,
A long moaning sacrifice,
Oh, but don't you see?
This twisted grasp upon my soul has set me free,
No more agony,
Warmth has touched my silhouette,
Leaving me speaking of the way one can become so dead,
Numb to what this life really is,
So, I'll kiss the virgin sky,
And leave my body tattered across the barren land, ...