My thoughts are like fleas,
I try as I please
To prevent their slipping,
To probe them for more meant
Than my wit can utter;
But out of the torment
They quiver and flutter,
Dance, sparkle, and vanish
With insolent ease.
To hold or to banish
My thoughts are like fleas.
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Comments about this poem (Fleas by Gamaliel Bradford )
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