Erica Francis

Poems by Erica Francis : 171 / 196
The House Where The Game Was Played - Poem by Erica Francis
I sit
in the house where the game was played
with a glass of wine in my left hand
and a pack of cigarettes in my sweatshirt.
I sit
in front of a digital box
looking at pieces of the universe
trying to understand why I'm such an idiot.
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Poems by Erica Francis : 171 / 196
Rudyard Kipling
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Poem Edited: Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Erica Francis's Other Poems
Famous Poems
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- TelevisionRoald Dahl
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
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