irish Protest - Poem by David McLansky
What's all this buzzing in the breeze,
These noisy birds, these humming fleas?
The bursting branches of the woods,
These calling loons, misunderstood;
There's such a screeching in the Spring,
Must every flower loudly ring?
Must lovers murmur on the grass,
Must mallards cackle as they pass?
Oh silent Life in darkened bars!
Oh neon lights, Oh whiskey jars!
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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