Sara Teasdale

(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States)

A Cry - Poem by Sara Teasdale

Oh, there are eyes that he can see,
And hands to make his hands rejoice,
But to my lover I must be
Only a voice.

Oh, there are breasts to bear his head,
And lips whereon his lips can lie,
But I must be till I am dead
Only a cry.


Submitted by Venus


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Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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