Forgotten Muse (For Vivian Maier) - Poem by Thomas Hooker
Privately taking a chance,
being creative takes risk
no illusions of being exposed,
no respect, some babies were
made to be seen, normally
they cry out to be heard.
Not me, I'm a spy with kindred
spirits going to the grave, forgotten
misunderstood, alone with my spirits,
just pictures at an exhibition.
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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
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye