Poem (Don't look...)
The world's about to break.
The world's about to chuck out all its light
and stuff us in the chokepit of its dark,
That black and fat suffocated place
Where we will kill or die or dance or weep
Or scream of whine or squeak like mice
To renegotiate our starting price.
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Comments about this poem (Poem (Don't look...) by Harold Pinter )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
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I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley