Painters - Poem by Eva Beylich
Every day I leave a picture
that others paint of me
at the place of the deed.
There it turns cheerful - without me.
I am at home and wait here
for the night
that makes me older - as always.
The night doesn't expect anything
and gives me paintings
like a friend
embraces me dreaming.
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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