Is It Poetry
Death A Mask - Poem by Is It Poetry
My Death A Mask, for life
And by the choosing of it
Latter for your selves
A few beds left unmade.
Unanticipated by any man
The wise hinder nor help it along
Watching but as each woman
Gathers, so many necessaries.
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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