Jessel Jane Tevar Toring
*cessation~ - Poem by Jessel Jane Tevar Toring
The beauty mirrored upon my hands
was bound to pen my wasted days;
these hands that envied Browning's
" How do I love thee.. let me count the ways"
could no more but write the pain upon them
Fingers heavy with tears drowned and died,
O the many days I threw away in waste!
If ‘love begets love' be true, then truth be lie,
the many veils I covered upon my face!
..I must cease these hands to write for thee...
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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