Sadness has a claim on me,
The way ghost towns are claimed by the wild.
A grip on me,
The way a jealous mother holds on to her child.
Sadness is no more a guest in my soul -
It walks like an owner,
As if all the prior no longer belongs there.
Sadness is chaining me
To the world that is empty and cold,
Yet, I'm chaining it too,
Chaining, to never let go.
It is my captive now,
A cloak I can't live without.
I do wish I could,
But I no longer know how.
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Comments about this poem (Sadness by Anna Kirshenbaum )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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