Is It Poetry
apatch apart aplay aday
when i got, it, i fought it,
i gave in to it, to her, any way.
she looks funny wearing it, i try to see it's
humor, it is blind to, it feels,
the heat when you look at it, how, is it?
i do not see what holds it on, determinations
grippes is chastity.
yet she holds it on, it is an every day battle,
a struggle, for
dear is life, if ever she, lets go of it,
she will have won, and it will have lost.
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Comments about this poem (apatch apart aplay aday by Is It Poetry )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
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William Ernest Henley
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