Glad Tidings...Really? - Poem by elysabeth faslund
When too many poets request too much information...
when too little propriety is shown...
when poetry is on a downhill cycle...
due to 'Miss...please use my email as a method of contacting me...'
by what sort of character are we afflicted?
The answer is rightly known, but cannot be said...
Do not call, write, or live to call, write.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You