Is It Poetry
In The Park
A prisoner of time to soon the past that none forgot,
it has bourne out the seed I planted long ago.
Children climb through the limbs,
furry squirrels now roam.
The merry go round still creaks and groans,
under the weight as children come and go.
Most have mother's whom still gossip,
as they did when mine was full of life.
Though the children seem to speak,
a different formless speech.
Mine is but a passing thought,
when even now the park is full of life.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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