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And you read your Emily Dickinson, And I my Robert Frost, And we note our place with bookmarkers That measure what we've lost. Like a poem poorly written W
by hprotagonist 3y ago
And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
And the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our lives.
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