Poe Fellow

Maybe I'll be luckier next time, and all
I'll have to face is some great bird which
Flutters up in darkness to my window sill,
Says, “Nevermore,” then flies away,
Instead of waking up one sunlit morning,
And discovering my love, now dressed,
Devoid of sorrow, echoing that bird.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 162 times
Written on 2019-02-07 at 18:45

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