In The Dead Zone - Poem by Anthony Weir
On warm, still nights
I hear rocks groan in their sleep.
I am mumbling sadness
unable to love or to weep,
a perforated stone
windowing pain with words.
can all sound the same on the phone.
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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