Big City Turkey Day Paper - Poem by Bill Grace
Little color bits fuel
A hunger never filled
Something precious dies.
Perhaps this is my task in life
To filter things that touch a soul
And to hold the strains till a pen can mold
Feeling into form.
Comments about Big City Turkey Day Paper by Bill Grace
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye