Journalism - Poem by Morris Rosenfeld
Written today, and read today,
And stale the news tomorrow!--
Upon the sands I build... I _play!_
I play, and weep in sorrow:
'Ah God, dear God! to find cessation
From this soul-crushing occupation!
If but one year ere Thou dost call me Thither,
Lord, at this blighting task let me not wither.'
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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