poem.id,poem.ts,poem.title,poem.rating,poem.content,poem.brief_introduction,poem.author,poem.published,poem.stories,poem.share,poem.vote
204,"2018-02-27 22:06:14","Precious Grandchild",4.43,"I'm here, my precious grandchild. Come, climb upon my knee. You are my little love. You mean the world to me. I see your little hands wipe away the tears. I want to hold you tight and chase away your fears. I'm here, my precious grandchild. Please, you can talk to me. I love you much deeper than the depths of the sea. I know you are hurting. I hear your silent cry. I need to scream for you, to help you breathe and sigh. I'm here, my precious grandchild. Come, walk outside with me. Never stop looking up. Keep dreaming to be free. Promise to never lose hope. Some things you will never know. There will be ups and downs. Stand, rise above the low. I'm here, my precious grandchild. Please, confront your pain. After you brave the storm, comes the cleansing rain. more by Annette R. Hershey","""Precious Grandchild"" is dedicated to all the grandparents who supply unconditional love and give their precious grandchildren a soft place to land.","Annette R. Hershey","January 29, 2018",1,32,21
205,"2018-02-27 22:06:16","My Special Penny",4.42,"My Granddaughter gave me a penny, And it means the world to me. For it is a constant reminder, Of the love she has for me. She chose me to have her penny, That meant so much to her. To buy a world of treasures, Was her special dream for me. I will never spend this penny, It's more precious to me than gold. Because it tells a story, Of a love that will never grow old. Dedicated To: Nellie Kay Mize more by Brinda Carter",,"Brinda Carter","June 2010",0,35,162
206,"2018-02-27 22:06:17","Letter To My Grandson",4.37,"By the time you read this you will be a big boy. I know you will be kind, funny, wise, sensitive, interesting, and a ball of fire! Your parents are all of these things. I know you will be strong and a wonderful hugger. Your father was and still is. I wish you happy, happy, days! You will have some bad days, yes. They are important so you can appreciate the good ones. There will be disappointments; I know you will be able to handle them. Granny always says, ""Life is 10% of what happens and 90% how you handle it. I pray you learn about humility. Please always let an outsider feel inside, and always, always be kind. I hope you learn that honesty is the best policy, And that doing a hard day's work will always make you feel better. Be a loyal friend, one people can count on and trust. I hope you put all of these wonderful things you possess To make yourself and the world around you a better place to live in. Please learn about the ""God Stuff;"" it really works, trust me. You have such a wonderful mother. She will be the one to teach you all the good things in life. Remember how to play, for you are in for a loving time. I hope we will be close always. I can't wait to see you. I love you already. Granny Susan L. Schmidt","A poem written by a grandmother to her grandson who she has not yet met. She gives her heartfelt advice to live the ""good life.""","Susan L. Schmidt","February 2006",14,1056,1044
207,"2018-02-27 22:06:22","Two Sweethearts",4.35,"God said, ""I have something special for you, I thought I would send one, but I just sent two."" Grandaughters they be, and it's really nice. God thought to bless Grandpa twice. Two little girls God sent to me, Just how lucky can a Grandpa be? Flooding my life with so much joy, Girls aren't the same as a little boy. They just love you and become a part, Twisting like a vine around your heart. Each one grows a little each day, Growing up in their own little way. Just so beautiful, like two cultured pearls, My, how Grandpa loves his two girls. Two sweethearts I like to call them, God's gift to me, I should thank him. None so loved your Grandpa imparts, Katelyn and Kaysi, my two sweethearts. more by Richard N. Cook","A Grandfather overcome with love for his two Granddaughters","Richard N. Cook","June 2007",2,80,254
208,"2018-02-27 22:06:24","Two Grandsons",4.29,"Two grandsons, different as could be Put a glow in the hearts of granddad and me. Hurricane Isabel came and threatened us, But in these two boys we put our trust. One stayed by his granddad's side And gave him support while waters rose inside. And when it came time to leave, He pulled his granddad to safety, you see. The other grandson walked to his grandma's side To stay with her as the waters raised a high tide. There he stayed with her through the night, And kept her safe until morning light. He kept her spirits high and never let her fear. He looked after her with her tender loving care, The love these two grandsons showed Will ever be a bright light in our hearts aglow. They gave us a gift we will never let part, Showing their love with all their hearts.","Grandchildren are certainly nice to have, especially if they can save your life.","Carol C. Yates","February 2006",1,15,73
209,"2018-02-27 22:06:28","To My Granddaughter",4.20,"Ah!! My granddaughter! My joy. She lightens my load She's like a new toy. She smiles at me, ever so slightly I grin right back at her but ever more brightly. She's the light of my life. I love her dear. Feels just like Heaven when I draw her near. Bedtime! Yes, a sweet time of day. Night, night, precious girl. Let's you and I pray..","I love my precious Dimara. Words can't really describe. I want all children to know the love of a grandma for her grandchild.","Amara Carberry","October 2011",3,286,1038
210,"2018-02-27 22:06:30","The Stick-Together Families",4.80,"The stick-together families are happier by far Than the brothers and the sisters who take separate highways are. The gladdest people living are the wholesome folks who make A circle at the fireside that no power but death can break. And the finest of conventions ever held beneath the sun Are the little family gatherings when the busy day is done. There are rich folk, there are poor folk, who imagine they are wise, And they're very quick to shatter all the little family ties. Each goes searching after pleasure in his own selected way, Each with strangers likes to wander, and with strangers likes to play. But it's bitterness they harvest, and it's empty joy they find, For the children that are wisest are the stick-together kind. There are some who seem to fancy that for gladness they must roam, That for smiles that are the brightest they must wander far from home. That the strange friend is the true friend, and they travel far astray they waste their lives in striving for a joy that's far away, But the gladdest sort of people, when the busy day is done, Are the brothers and the sisters who together share their fun. It's the stick-together family that wins the joys of earth, That hears the sweetest music and that finds the finest mirth; It's the old home roof that shelters all the charm that life can give; There you find the gladdest play-ground, there the happiest spot to live. And, O weary, wandering brother, if contentment you would win, Come you back unto the fireside and be comrade with your kin. more Edgar Guest","The Stick-Together Families was published in 1917 in the book Just Folks by Edgar A. Guest. Guest wrote a poem a day seven days a week for thirty years as a columnist for the Detroit Free Press.","Edgar Guest",,0,763,46
211,"2018-02-27 22:06:33",Home,4.44,"It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home, A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind, An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind. It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be, How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury; It ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king, Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything. Home ain't a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute; Afore it's home there's got t' be a heap o' livin' in it; Within the walls there's got t' be some babies born, and then Right there ye've got t' bring 'em up t' women good, an' men; And gradjerly as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn't part With anything they ever used — they've grown into yer heart: The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore Ye hoard; an' if ye could ye'd keep the thumb-marks on the door. Ye've got t' weep t' make it home, ye've got t' sit an' sigh An' watch beside a loved one's bed, an' know that Death is nigh; An' in the stillness o' the night t' see Death's angel come, An' close the eyes o' her that smiled, an' leave her sweet voice dumb. Fer these are scenes that grip the heart, an' when yer tears are dried, Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an' sanctified; An' tuggin' at ye always are the pleasant memories o' her that was an' is no more—ye can't escape from these. Ye've got t' sing an' dance fer years, ye've got t' romp an' play, An' learn t' love the things ye have by usin' 'em each day; Even the roses 'round the porch must blossom year by year Afore they 'come a part o' ye, suggestin' someone dear Who used t' love 'em long ago, an' trained 'em jes t' run The way they do, so's they would get the early mornin' sun; Ye've got t' love each brick an' stone from cellar up t' dome: It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home. more Edgar Guest","Edgar Albert Guest (1881-1959) was born in England and moved with his family to America at age 10. He started working for the Detroit Free Press while still a teenager and went on to became a columnist for the newspaper, where for 30 years he published a new poem each day. This poem is also published in his book, It takes A Heap o' Livin' (1916). He was appointed Poet Laureate of Michigan in 1952. The purposeful grammar and spelling mistakes in the poem imply that the simple profound wisdom contained within are common knowledge to all.","Edgar Guest",,0,103,16
212,"2018-02-27 22:06:34","Life's Scars",4.43,"They say the world is round, and yet I often think it square, So many little hurts we get From corners here and there. But one great truth in life I've found, While journeying to the West- The only folks who really wound Are those we love the best. The man you thoroughly despise Can rouse your wrath, 'tis true; Annoyance in your heart will rise At things mere strangers do; But those are only passing ills; This rule all lives will prove; The rankling wound which aches and thrills Is dealt by hands we love. The choicest garb, the sweetest grace, Are oft to strangers shown; The careless mien, the frowning face, Are given to our own. We flatter those we scarcely know, We please the fleeting guest, And deal full many a thoughtless blow To those who love us best. Love does not grow on every tree, Nor true hearts yearly bloom. Alas for those who only see This cut across a tomb! But, soon or late, the fact grows plain To all through sorrow's test: The only folks who give us pain Are those we love the best. more Ella Wheeler Wilcox","A poem full of wisdom about relationships. How ironic is it that the people we love, the most important people in our lives, are the ones who we often treat the worst. While the guests who come into our lives temporarily, we always treat politely and with a smile. Shouldn't it be the opposite?","Ella Wheeler Wilcox",,0,375,135
213,"2018-02-27 22:06:37","The Little Boy And Old Man",4.38,"Said the little boy, sometimes I drop my spoon. Said the little old man, I do that too. The little boy whispered, I wet my pants. I do too, laughed the old man. Said the little boy, I often cry. The old man nodded. So do I. But worst of all, said the boy, it seems grown-ups don’t pay attention to me. And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand. I know what you mean, said the little old man. more Shel Silverstein","Shel Silverstein (1930-1999) is a poet known for his wonderful and funny poems for children. But, many of his poems contain nuggets of wisdom for adults as well. In this poignant poem, the poet illustrates the indignities of growing old. The ""little old man"" has reverted back to a ""little boy"" and his own children now treat him as a little boy.","Shel Silverstein",,0,434,50
214,"2018-02-27 22:06:39","The Children's Hour",4.33,"Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair. A whisper, and then a silence: Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together To take me by surprise. A sudden rush from the stairway, A sudden raid from the hall! By three doors left unguarded They enter my castle wall! They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere. They almost devour me with kisses, Their arms about me entwine, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine! Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old mustache as I am Is not a match for you all! I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon In the round-tower of my heart. And there will I keep you forever, Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, And moulder in dust away! more Henry Wadsworth Longfellow","The Children's Hour was first published in 1860 in The Atlantic Monthly. The 3 children in the poem are Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's own daughters. In the early 1900's this poem was frequently taught in schools to young children. However, it is actually a poem about children and the enduring love of a father for his children, rather than a poem for children.","Henry Wadsworth Longfellow",,0,398,36
215,"2018-02-27 22:06:43","Mother To Son",4.29,"Well, son, I'll tell you: Life for me ain't been no crystal stair. It's had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up, And places with no carpet on the floor- Bare. But all the time I'se been a-climbin' on, And reachin' landin's, And turnin' corners, And sometimes goin' in the dark Where there ain't been no light. So, boy, don't you turn back. Don't you set down on the steps. 'Cause you finds it's kinder hard. Don't you fall now- For I'se still goin', honey, I'se still climbin', And life for me ain't been no crystal stair. more Langston Hughes","Langston Hughes was a prominent writer during the Harlem Renaissance. In this poem, a mother uses the metaphor of life being like a staircase to give advice to her son. While there are difficult times, you must keep moving like you would while walking up a staircase.","Langston Hughes",,4,2063,1004
216,"2018-02-27 22:06:45","A Father To His Son",4.11,"A father sees his son nearing manhood. What shall he tell that son? ""Life is hard; be steel; be a rock."" And this might stand him for the storms and serve him for humdrum monotony and guide him among sudden betrayals and tighten him for slack moments. ""Life is a soft loam; be gentle; go easy."" And this too might serve him. Brutes have been gentled where lashes failed. The growth of a frail flower in a path up has sometimes shattered and split a rock. A tough will counts. So does desire. So does a rich soft wanting. Without rich wanting nothing arrives. Tell him too much money has killed men and left them dead years before burial: the quest of lucre beyond a few easy needs has twisted good enough men sometimes into dry thwarted worms. Tell him time as a stuff can be wasted. Tell him to be a fool every so often and to have no shame over having been a fool yet learning something out of every folly hoping to repeat none of the cheap follies thus arriving at intimate understanding of a world numbering many fools. Tell him to be alone often and get at himself and above all tell himself no lies about himself whatever the white lies and protective fronts he may use against other people. Tell him solitude is creative if he is strong and the final decisions are made in silent rooms. Tell him to be different from other people if it comes natural and easy being different. Let him have lazy days seeking his deeper motives. Let him seek deep for where he is born natural. Then he may understand Shakespeare and the Wright brothers, Pasteur, Pavlov, Michael Faraday and free imaginations Bringing changes into a world resenting change. He will be lonely enough to have time for the work he knows as his own. more Carl Sandburg","Carl Sandburg lived from 1878-1967. Some of his works have received Pulitzer Prizes, and Sandburg had a middle school named after him. In this poem, a father is thinking about the advice he wishes to impart to his son.","Carl Sandburg",,0,261,227
217,"2018-02-27 22:06:48","A Cradle Song",4.03,"Sweet dreams form a shade O'er my lovely infant's head; Sweet dreams of pleasant streams By happy, silent, moony beams. Sweet sleep with soft down Weave thy brows an infant crown. Sweet sleep, Angel mild, Hover o'er my happy child. Sweet smiles in the night Hover over my delight; Sweet smiles, Mother's smiles, All the livelong night beguiles. Sweet moans, dovelike sighs, Chase not slumber from thy eyes. Sweet moans, sweeter smiles, All the dovelike moans beguiles. Sleep sleep, happy child, All creation slept and smil'd; Sleep sleep, happy sleep, While o'er thee thy mother weep. Sweet babe, in thy face Holy image I can trace. Sweet babe, once like thee, Thy maker lay and wept for me, Wept for me for thee for all, When he was an infant small. Thou his image ever see. Heavenly face that smiles on thee, Smiles on thee on me on all, Who became an infant small, Infant smiles are His own smiles, Heaven & earth to peace beguiles. more William Blake","A poem from his book, Songs of innocence and of experience by William Blake, a lullaby of unparalleled beauty.","William Blake",,1,87,62
218,"2018-02-27 22:06:54","Nurse's Song",3.79,"When the voices of children are heard on the green, And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast, And everything else is still. 'Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, And the dews of night arise; Come, come leave off play, and let us away Till the morning appears in the skies.' 'No, no, let us play, for it is yet day, And we cannot go to sleep; Besides, in the sky the little birds fly, And the hills are all cover'd with sheep.' 'Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, And then go home to bed.' The little ones leapèd, and shoutèd, and laugh'd And all the hills echoèd. more William Blake","Published in Songs of Innocence in 1789. The poem tells of a Nurse, who is watching her children playing out in the fields. She calls them to come in, they protest, for to them it is still light and there is still time to play. The poem fits in with the theme of innocence, as the children are oblivious to the dangers of playing outside late at night. The Nurse is of a jovial and warmhearted nature, and she allows the children to continue with their games.","William Blake",,1,109,96
219,"2018-02-27 22:06:58","My Papa's Waltz",3.75,"The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt. more Theodore Roethke","Theodore Roethke, is the small boy in this poem. His father died when he was just fifteen. Roethke struggled with mental illness all his life. His first book of poetry, Open House, was published in 1941. His relationship with his father occupied a large part of his writings. In this poem it is unclear if the memories of his drunk father putting him to bed are happy or sad, abusive or merry, scary or sweet. Which do you think?","Theodore Roethke",,0,48,61
220,"2018-02-27 22:06:59","The Ballad Of The Harp Weaver",4.68,"""Son,"" said my mother, When I was knee-high, ""you've need of clothes to cover you, and not a rag have I. ""There's nothing in the house To make a boy breeches, Nor shears to cut a cloth with, Nor thread to take stitches. ""There's nothing in the house But a loaf-end of rye, And a harp with a woman's head Nobody will buy,"" And she began to cry. That was in the early fall. When came the late fall, ""Son,"" she said, ""the sight of you Makes your mother's blood crawl,-- ""Little skinny shoulder-blades Sticking through your clothes! And where you'll get a jacket from God above knows. ""It's lucky for me, lad, Your daddy's in the ground, And can't see the way I let His son go around!"" And she made a queer sound. That was in the late fall. When the winter came, I'd not a pair of breeches Nor a shirt to my name. I couldn't go to school, Or out of doors to play. And all the other little boys Passed our way. ""Son,"" said my mother, ""Come, climb into my lap, And I'll chafe your little bones While you take a nap."" And, oh, but we were silly For half and hour or more, Me with my long legs, Dragging on the floor, A-rock-rock-rocking To a mother-goose rhyme! Oh, but we were happy For half an hour's time! But there was I, a great boy, And what would folks say To hear my mother singing me To sleep all day, In such a daft way? Men say the winter Was bad that year; Fuel was scarce, And food was dear. A wind with a wolf's head Howled about our door, And we burned up the chairs And sat upon the floor. All that was left us Was a chair we couldn't break, And the harp with a woman's head Nobody would take, For song or pity's sake. The night before Christmas I cried with cold, I cried myself to sleep Like a two-year old. And in the deep night I felt my mother rise, And stare down upon me With love in her eyes. I saw my mother sitting On the one good chair, A light falling on her From I couldn't tell where. Looking nineteen, And not a day older, And the harp with a woman's head Leaned against her shoulder. Her thin fingers, moving In the thin, tall strings, Were weav-weav-weaving Wonderful things. Many bright threads, From where I couldn't see, Were running through the harp-strings Rapidly, And gold threads whistling Through my mother's hand. I saw the web grow, And the pattern expand. She wove a child's jacket, And when it was done She laid it on the floor And wove another one. She wove a red cloak So regal to see, ""She's made it for a king's son,"" I said, ""and not for me."" But I knew it was for me. She wove a pair of breeches Quicker than that! She wove a pair of boots And a little cocked hat. She wove a pair of mittens, Shw wove a little blouse, She wove all night In the still, cold house. She sang as she worked, And the harp-strings spoke; Her voice never faltered, And the thread never broke, And when I awoke,-- There sat my mother With the harp against her shoulder, Looking nineteen, And not a day older, A smile about her lips, And a light about her head, And her hands in the harp-strings Frozen dead. And piled beside her And toppling to the skies, Were the clothes of a king's son, Just my size. more Edna St. Vincent Millay","Edna St. Vincent Millay was an American poet who lived from 1892-1950. This poem is about maternal love and self-sacrifice. It won Edna St. Vincent Millay the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1923. At the time, she was only the third woman to receive this honor.","Edna St. Vincent Millay",,1,321,147
221,"2018-02-27 22:07:04","Richard Cory",4.46,"Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored, and imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still he fluttered pulses when he said, ""Good-morning,"" and he glittered when he walked. And he was rich - yes, richer than a king - And admirably schooled in every grace: In fine, we thought that he was everything To make us wish that we were in his place. So on we worked, and waited for the light, And went without the meat, and cursed the bread; And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet through his head. more Edwin Arlington Robinson","A narrative poem, ""Richard Cory"" was first published in 1897, as part of The Children of the Night. It is one of Robinson's most popular and published poems. The poem describes a person who is wealthy, well educated, mannerly, and admired by the people in his town. Despite all this, he takes his own life.","Edwin Arlington Robinson",,1,129,329
222,"2018-02-27 22:07:08","A Dream Within A Dream",4.44,"Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? more Edgar Allan Poe","Poe is describing feelings of desperation and sadness at the passing of time, and comparing it to a dream. He wishes he could hold on to just a moment of his life. He questions if anything in life is real or is it all ""But a dream within a dream?"" A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe was first published in 1849.","Edgar Allan Poe",,1,335,488
223,"2018-02-27 22:07:10",Alone,4.38,"From childhood's hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved alone. Then- in my childhood, in the dawn Of a most stormy life- was drawn From every depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still: From the torrent, or the fountain, From the red cliff of the mountain, From the sun that round me rolled In its autumn tint of gold, From the lightning in the sky As it passed me flying by, From the thunder and the storm, And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view. more Edgar Allan Poe","The poem, Alone was written by Edgar Allan Poe (January 19, 1809 - October 7, 1849) in 1829. It was written by Poe when he was only 20 and describes his own inner torment at that young age. The poem was not published until 1875, long after his death.","Edgar Allan Poe",,0,599,1191
224,"2018-02-27 22:07:11",Solitude,4.38,"Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer; Sigh, it is lost on the air; The echoes bound to a joyful sound, But shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you; Grieve, and they turn and go; They want full measure of all your pleasure, But they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many; Be sad, and you lose them all, There are none to decline your nectared wine, But alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded; Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live, But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure For a large and lordly train, But one by one we must all file on Through the narrow aisles of pain. more Ella Wheeler Wilcox","""Solitude"" is Ella Wheeler Wilcox's most famous poem. The idea for the poem came as she was traveling to Madison, Wisconsin, to attend the Governor's inaugural ball. On her way to the celebration, there was a young woman dressed in black sitting across the aisle from her. The woman was crying. Miss Wheeler sat next to her and sought to comfort her for the rest of the journey. When they arrived, the poet was so unhappy that she could barely attend the festivities. As she looked at her own face in the mirror, she suddenly recalled the sorrowful widow. It was at that moment that she wrote the opening lines of ""Solitude."" It was first published in an 1883 issue of The New York Sun.","Ella Wheeler Wilcox",,3,644,1298
225,"2018-02-27 22:07:16","One Art",4.33,"The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster. —Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster. more Elizabeth Bishop","Possibly her most famous poem, Elizabeth Bishop's, One Art is a villanelle, a 6 stanza poem that consists of five tercets (3 line stanzas), and one concluding quatrain (4 line stanza). For more about this challenging poetry form see How To Write a Villannelle. This poem is about loss and starts off light with a touch of humor, but loss is certainly not a humorous topic and as the stanzas go on the losses mount. Losing our most precious possessions, our friends and loved ones is a most difficult burden. Bishop lost both her parents as a child. Her father died when she was an infant and her mother was committed to an Insane Asylum when she was five. She never saw her mother again and grew up in the homes of various relatives.","Elizabeth Bishop",,0,112,24
226,"2018-02-27 22:07:19","A Hero",4.22,"Three times I had the lust to kill, To clutch a throat so young and fair, And squeeze with all my might until No breath of being lingered there. Three times I drove the demon out, Though on my brow was evil sweat. . . . And yet I know beyond a doubt He'll get me yet, he'll get me yet. I know I'm mad, I ought to tell The doctors, let them care for me, Confine me in a padded cell And never, never set me free; But Oh how cruel that would be! For I am young - and comely too . . . Yet dim my demon I can see, And there is but one thing to do. Three times I beat the foul fiend back; The fourth, I know he will prevail, And so I'll seek the railway track And lay my head upon the rail, And sight the dark and distant train, And hear its thunder louder roll, Coming to crush my cursed brain . . . Oh God, have mercy on my soul! more Robert W. Service","Robert William Service was a British-Canadian author who lived from 1874-1958. He spent much of his early career years as a banker, but his dream was to be a cowboy. This poem shows the dark side of a person, someone who wishes to kill another, and in the end decides it's better to kill himself.","Robert W. Service",,2,95,259
227,"2018-02-27 22:07:21",Mirror,4.19,"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see I swallow immediately Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful, The eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over. Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish. more Sylvia Plath","Sylvia Plath was an American author and poet who lived from 1932-1963. She was a driven person, and she graduated summa cum laude from Smith College in 1955. Despite her success, Plath struggled with depression, and committed suicide in 1963. This poem shows the struggle a woman has with her identity as she grows older and begins to lose her youthfulness.","Sylvia Plath",,0,179,227
228,"2018-02-27 22:07:22","The Bells",4.13,"I Hear the sledges with the bells - Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells - From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. II Hear the mellow wedding bells - Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! From the molten-golden notes, And all in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon! Oh, from out the sounding cells What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the Future! -how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells - To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! III Hear the loud alarum bells - Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire, Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor Now -now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells - Of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells - In the clamor and the clangor of the bells! IV Hear the tolling of the bells - Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people -ah, the people - They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone - They are neither man nor woman - They are neither brute nor human - They are Ghouls: And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A paean from the bells! And his merry bosom swells With the paean of the bells! And he dances, and he yells; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the paean of the bells, Of the bells - Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells - To the sobbing of the bells; Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells - To the tolling of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells - To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. more Edgar Allan Poe","""The Bells"" was published in 1849 after the death of Edgar Allen Poe. The poem has four parts to it; each part becomes darker and darker as the poem progresses from ""the jingling and the tinkling"" and ""rhyming and the chiming"" of the bells in Parts 1 and 2 to the ""clamor and the clangor"" of the bells in Part 3 and finally the ""moaning and the groaning"" of the bells in part 4.","Edgar Allan Poe",,0,58,108
229,"2018-02-27 22:07:25","The Sick Rose",4.08,"O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy. more William Blake","William Blake was an English poet who lived from 1757-1827. Blake spoke of having visions as a young child, and since he was different than others, his parents did not send him to school. He learned to read and write at home, and he began writing poetry at the age of twelve. The rose in this poem is a symbol of love and how love can become sick without realizing it. There are various ""worms"" that can come to destroy the love between two people.","William Blake",,0,62,114
230,"2018-02-27 22:07:28","Have You Earned Your Tomorrow",4.61,"Is anybody happier because you passed his way? Does anyone remember that you spoke to him today? This day is almost over, and its toiling time is through; Is there anyone to utter now a kindly word of you? Did you give a cheerful greeting to the friend who came along? Or a churlish sort of ""Howdy"" and then vanish in the throng? Were you selfish pure and simple as you rushed along the way, Or is someone mighty grateful for a deed you did today? Can you say tonight, in parting with the day that's slipping fast, That you helped a single brother of the many that you passed? Is a single heart rejoicing over what you did or said; Does a man whose hopes were fading now with courage look ahead? Did you waste the day, or lose it, was it well or sorely spent? Did you leave a trail of kindness or a scar of discontent? As you close your eyes in slumber do you think that God would say, You have earned one more tomorrow by the work you did today? more Edgar Guest","This famous poem, ""Have You Earned Your Tomorrow"", is likely by Edgar A. Guest who was known as the People's Poet for his simple uplifting style of writing poetry, and first published in the Detroit Free Press around 1916. There are different versions of the poem around and it has been attributed to other authors and with other titles such as ""The Day's Results"", ""The Day's Work"", ""At Day's End"", and ""Is Anybody Happier"".","Edgar Guest",,2,1664,165
231,"2018-02-27 22:07:29",If,4.52,"If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same:. If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ""Hold on!"" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! more Rudyard Kipling","Rudyard Kipling was an English poet who lived from 1865-1936. He also wrote many children's stories. The poem's line, ""If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same,"" is written on the wall of the players' entrance at Wimbledon.","Rudyard Kipling",,15,9047,2682
232,"2018-02-27 22:07:33","A Psalm Of Life",4.52,"Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream!— For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act,—act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait. more Henry Wadsworth Longfellow","This inspiring poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, (1807 - 1882) was first published in 1838. It uses an ABAB rhyming pattern. Longfellow explained the poem's purpose as ""a transcript of my thoughts and feelings at the time I wrote, and of the conviction therein expressed, that Life is something more than an idle dream."" A very famous line from the poem is, ""Footprints on the sands of time"".","Henry Wadsworth Longfellow",,2,1311,129
233,"2018-02-27 22:07:35","It Couldn't Be Done",4.52,"Somebody said that it couldn’t be done But he with a chuckle replied That ""maybe it couldn't,"" but he would be one Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried. So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin On his face. If he worried he hid it. He started to sing as he tackled the thing That couldn’t be done, and he did it! Somebody scoffed: ""Oh, you’ll never do that; At least no one ever has done it;"" But he took off his coat and he took off his hat And the first thing we knew he'd begun it. With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin, Without any doubting or quiddit, He started to sing as he tackled the thing That couldn't be done, and he did it. There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done, There are thousands to prophesy failure, There are thousands to point out to you one by one, The dangers that wait to assail you. But just buckle in with a bit of a grin, Just take off your coat and go to it; Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing That ""cannot be done,"" and you'll do it. more Edgar Guest","Edgar Albert Guest (1881-1959) published more than twenty volumes of poetry and over 11,000 poems. His first published poem and many more were published in the Detroit Free Press where he was a columnist. He later had both popular radio and television shows. Guest has been called ""the poet of the people."" Of his poems he said, ""I take simple everyday things that happen to me and I figure it happens to a lot of other people and I make simple rhymes out of them.""","Edgar Guest",,2,1341,83
234,"2018-02-27 22:07:40",Equipment,4.52,"Figure it out for yourself, my lad, You've all that the greatest of men have had, Two arms, two hands, two legs, two eyes, And a brain to use if you would be wise. With this equipment they all began, So start for the top and say ""I can."" Look them over, the wise and great, They take their food from a common plate And similar knives and forks they use, With similar laces they tie their shoes, The world considers them brave and smart. But you've all they had when they made their start. You can triumph and come to skill, You can be great if only you will, You're well equipped for what fight you choose, You have legs and arms and a brain to use, And the man who has risen, great deeds to do Began his life with no more than you. You are the handicap you must face, You are the one who must choose your place, You must say where you want to go. How much you will study the truth to know, God has equipped you for life, But He Lets you decide what you want to be. Courage must come from the soul within, The man must furnish the will to win, So figure it out for yourself, my lad, You were born with all that the great have had, With your equipment they all began. Get hold of yourself, and say: ""I can."" more Edgar Guest","Edgar A. Guest was born in 1881 in England, but his family moved to the United States when he was 10. It is believed that he wrote more than 11,000 poems. Guest wrote about family, work, children, and God. In this poem, he shows that each person has the ability to do amazing things, but we must each work hard to get to where we want to be. We must look within ourselves to find the strength and courage needed to do great things with what God has given us. This is a poem of encouragement and motivation. Within each stanza are sets of rhyming couplets.","Edgar Guest",,0,727,58
235,"2018-02-27 22:07:41","Still I Rise",4.49,"You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. more Maya Angelou","Maya Angelou is one of the most celebrated American Poets of our time. Born in 1928, her life has spanned much of the African American struggle for racial equality. She was a confidant of Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. In this poem about African American Courage, Angelou embodies the power, courage and tenacity of the African American experience.","Maya Angelou",,3,2123,1879
236,"2018-02-27 22:07:45","Phenomenal Woman",4.48,"Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them They say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Now you understand Just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing It ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need of my care, 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. more Maya Angelou","Maya Angelou is one of the most influential women of our time. Her writing pulls on the hearts of many readers. In addition to her proliferous writing career, Maya Angelou has been a civil rights activist. This poem shows how even though someone is not beautiful on the outside compared to society's standards, there is an inner beauty that makes a woman even more beautiful.","Maya Angelou",,7,3586,1352
237,"2018-02-27 22:07:49","Human Family",4.48,"I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived as true profundity, and others claim they really live the real reality. The variety of our skin tones can confuse, bemuse, delight, brown and pink and beige and purple, tan and blue and white. I've sailed upon the seven seas and stopped in every land, I've seen the wonders of the world not yet one common man. I know ten thousand women called Jane and Mary Jane, but I've not seen any two who really were the same. Mirror twins are different although their features jibe, and lovers think quite different thoughts while lying side by side. We love and lose in China, we weep on England's moors, and laugh and moan in Guinea, and thrive on Spanish shores. We seek success in Finland, are born and die in Maine. In minor ways we differ, in major we're the same. I note the obvious differences between each sort and type, but we are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike. We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike. We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike. more Maya Angelou","In this beautiful and powerful poem, Maya Angelou, teaches us that we are all people, and so much more alike than different. How different the world would be if we all lived this simple truth!","Maya Angelou",,7,2443,876
238,"2018-02-27 22:07:54","The Invitation",4.47,"It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love for your dream for the adventure of being alive. It doesnt interest me what planets are squaring your moon... I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow if have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain mine or your own without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful to be realistic to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure yours and mine and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ""Yes."" It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.","This poem is an excerpt from the book, The Invitation (1999), by Oriah Mountain Dreamer. Oriah is a spiritual counselor and story teller, among other things. This poem offers an invitation to every single one of us to ""show up"" in the universe. She reminds us that we do not serve the universe by being small. Rather, we serve the universe by making the most out of our lives.","Oriah Mountain Dreamer",,2,2607,1056
239,"2018-02-27 22:07:59","Good Timber",4.44,"The tree that never had to fight For sun and sky and air and light, But stood out in the open plain And always got its share of rain, Never became a forest king But lived and died a scrubby thing. The man who never had to toil To gain and farm his patch of soil, Who never had to win his share Of sun and sky and light and air, Never became a manly man But lived and died as he began. Good timber does not grow with ease, The stronger wind, the stronger trees, The further sky, the greater length, The more the storm, the more the strength. By sun and cold, by rain and snow, In trees and men good timbers grow. Where thickest lies the forest growth We find the patriarchs of both. And they hold counsel with the stars Whose broken branches show the scars Of many winds and much of strife. This is the common law of life.","Douglas Malloch (1877-1938), known as the ""Lumbermen's Poet"", compares good men to good timber in this famous metaphorical poem. The message of this poem is that People, like Trees, grow and reach their true potential by overcoming adversity. It is only through struggles, like a tree fighting through forest growth to reach the sun, that we grow and discover our true potential. Malloch lived in Michigan where he grew up amongst logging camps and lumber yards. He wrote his first published poem when he was still a boy, it was published in the Detroit News.","Douglas Malloch",,0,414,41
240,"2018-02-27 22:08:05","A Child Of Mine",4.60,"I will lend you, for a little time, A child of mine, He said. For you to love the while he lives, And mourn for when he's dead. It may be six or seven years, Or twenty-two or three. But will you, till I call him back, Take care of him for Me? He'll bring his charms to gladden you, And should his stay be brief. You'll have his lovely memories, As solace for your grief. I cannot promise he will stay, Since all from earth return. But there are lessons taught down there, I want this child to learn. I've looked the wide world over, In search for teachers true. And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes, I have selected you. Now will you give him all your love, Nor think the labour vain. Nor hate me when I come To take him home again? I fancied that I heard them say, 'Dear Lord, Thy will be done!' For all the joys Thy child shall bring, The risk of grief we'll run. We'll shelter him with tenderness, We'll love him while we may, And for the happiness we've known, Forever grateful stay. But should the angels call for him, Much sooner than we've planned. We'll brave the bitter grief that comes, And try to understand. more Edgar Guest","This famous poem by Edgar Albert Guest (1881-1959) has been bringing comfort to grief stricken parents for years. Guest himself suffered the loss of two of his children. A Child of Mine is a popular poem to read at funerals of children. To lose a child is one of life's most awful experiences. Focusing on the gift of your few years together can bring a measure of comfort.","Edgar Guest",,0,470,47
241,"2018-02-27 22:08:07","Death Is Nothing At All",4.58,"Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again! more Henry Scott-Holland","This poem is often read at funerals. The author, Henry Scott-Holland (1847 - 1918), a priest at St. Paul's Cathedral of London, did not intend it as a poem, it was actually delivered as part of a sermon in 1910. The sermon, titled, ""Death the King of Terrors"" was preached while the body of King Edward VII was lying in state at Westminster.","Henry Scott-Holland",,43,21482,4808
242,"2018-02-27 22:08:09","Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep",4.55,"Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.","The original poem was written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905-2004) from Baltimore, MD. There are in existence many slightly different versions of the poem. This extremely famous poem has been read at countless funerals and public occasions. The author composed this poem in a moment of inspiration and scribbled it on a paper bag. She wrote it to comfort a family friend who had just lost her mother and was unable to even visit her grave. This is the only surviving poem of Mary Elizabeth Frye and quite possibly her only poem.","Mary Elizabeth Frye",,36,12586,5037
243,"2018-02-27 22:08:11","But You Didn't",4.43,"Remember the time you lent me your car and I dented it? I thought you'd kill me... But you didn't. Remember the time I forgot to tell you the dance was formal, and you came in jeans? I thought you'd hate me... But you didn't. Remember the times I'd flirt with other boys just to make you jealous, and you were? I thought you'd drop me... But you didn't. There were plenty of things you did to put up with me, to keep me happy, to love me, and there are so many things I wanted to tell you when you returned from Vietnam... But you didn't.","The message behind this poem is not to wait to tell the important people in your life how you feel about them, but do it right away. You never know if you'll get the chance again.","Merrill Glass",,6,1140,1626
244,"2018-02-27 22:08:12","Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night",4.32,"Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rage at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. more Dylan Thomas","This very famous poem by Dylan Thomas was written as Thomas' father lay on his deathbed. The message that Thomas was conveying to his father was his passionate desire that his father not take death ""lying down"". He is expressing the feeling that so many have felt as they watched a close friend, parent or lover slip away. The message to his father is, ""Don't Go!"" Fight! Death is an injustice! Show your passion for life, by not going gentle into that ""good"" night.","Dylan Thomas",,3,544,440
245,"2018-02-27 22:08:16","The Little White Hearse",4.32,"Somebody's baby was buried to-day-- The empty white hearse from the grave rumbled back, And the morning somehow seemed less smiling and gay As I paused on the walk while it crossed on its way, And a shadow seemed drawn o'er the sun's golden track. Somebody's baby was laid out to rest, White as a snowdrop, and fair to behold, And the soft little hands were crossed over the breast, And those hands and the lips and the eyelids were pressed With kisses as hot as the eyelids were cold. Somebody saw it go out of her sight, Under the coffin lid--out through the door; Somebody finds only darkness and blight All through the glory of summer-sun light; Somebody's baby will waken no more. Somebody's sorrow is making me weep: I know not her name, but I echo her cry, For the dearly bought baby she longed so to keep, The baby that rode to its long-lasting sleep In the little white hearse that went rumbling by. I know not her name, but her sorrow I know; While I paused on the crossing I lived it once more, And back to my heart surged that river of woe That but in the breast of a mother can flow; For the little white hearse has been, too, at my door. more Ella Wheeler Wilcox","When Ella Wheeler Wilcox was about 28 years of age, she married Robert Wilcox. They had one child, a son, who died shortly after birth.","Ella Wheeler Wilcox",,0,143,276
246,"2018-02-27 22:08:22",Remember,4.30,"Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann'd: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad. more Christina Rossetti","Christina Rossetti was an English poet who lived from 1830-1894. In this poem, she wants her loved one to remember her after death. The word “remember” is shared five times, bringing attention to the importance of holding onto those memories, but the tone changes at the end. She then gives her loved one the permission to move on after her death. She hopes to be remembered, but she doesn’t want those memories to cause sadness to those she leaves behind.","Christina Rossetti",,0,602,128
247,"2018-02-27 22:08:23","A Happy Man",4.27,"When these graven lines you see, Traveller, do not pity me; Though I be among the dead, Let no mournful word be said. Children that I leave behind, And their children, all were kind; Near to them and to my wife, I was happy all my life. My three sons I married right, And their sons I rocked at night; Death nor sorrow never brought Cause for one unhappy thought. Now, and with no need of tears, Here they leave me, full of years,-- Leave me to my quiet rest In the region of the blest. more Edwin Arlington Robinson","Edwin Arlington Robinson was an American poet and playwright who lived from 1869-1935. His work won him the Pulitzer Prize three times. In this poem, an old man reflects on the wonderful life he had with his family. He does not want that family to mourn over his death because his life was well lived, and he had many years of enjoyment.","Edwin Arlington Robinson",,0,327,412
248,"2018-02-27 22:08:28","Because I Could Not Stop For Death",4.17,"Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labor, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school, where children strove At recess, in the ring; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun. Or rather, he passed us; The dews grew quivering and chill, For only gossamer my gown, My tippet only tulle. We paused before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarcely visible, The cornice but a mound. Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity. more Emily Dickinson","A poem about death. Dickinson portrays death as her companion in the carriage. She passes her childhood - the school, to her grave.","Emily Dickinson",,3,333,449
249,"2018-02-27 22:08:33",Echo,4.09,"Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years. O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet, Whose wakening should have been in Paradise, Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet; Where thirsting longing eyes Watch the slow door That opening, letting in, lets out no more. Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death: Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low As long ago, my love, how long ago. more Christina Rossetti","Christina Rossetti lived from 1830-1894, and many of her poems had religious and melancholy tones. Both are represented in “Echo.” This poem captures the pain of losing a loved one and the longing to feel their presence in any form.","Christina Rossetti",,0,230,54
250,"2018-02-27 22:08:36","See It Through",4.56,"When you’re up against a trouble, Meet it squarely, face to face; Lift your chin and set your shoulders, Plant your feet and take a brace. When it’s vain to try to dodge it, Do the best that you can do; You may fail, but you may conquer, See it through! Black may be the clouds about you And your future may seem grim, But don’t let your nerve desert you; Keep yourself in fighting trim. If the worst is bound to happen, Spite of all that you can do, Running from it will not save you, See it through! Even hope may seem but futile, When with troubles you’re beset, But remember you are facing Just what other men have met. You may fail, but fall still fighting; Don’t give up, whate’er you do; Eyes front, head high to the finish. See it through! more Edgar Guest",,"Edgar Guest",,0,572,27
251,"2018-02-27 22:08:37","The Paradoxical Commandments",4.47,"People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered. Love them anyway. If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives. Do good anyway. If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway. The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway. Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable. Be honest and frank anyway. The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds. Think big anyway. People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs. Fight for a few underdogs anyway. What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway. People really need help but may attack you if you do help them. Help people anyway. Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway. more Kent M. Keith","This selection, entitled, ""The Paradoxical Commandments"", was written by Kent M. Keith in 1968 when he was a 19 year old Harvard Student. Since then, it has been quoted by millions and even mistakenly attributed to Mother Teresa who had a version hung as a poem on a wall in her Children's Home in Calcutta. The text contains 10 commandments. The theme and the paradox is to persevere in doing good for humanity and acting with integrity even if your efforts aren't appreciated.","Kent M. Keith",,4,1111,595
252,"2018-02-27 22:08:43","What Are Heavy?",4.39,"What are heavy? Sea-sand and sorrow; What are brief? Today and tomorrow; What are frail? Spring blossoms and youth; What are deep? The ocean and truth. more Christina Rossetti","In this poem, Christina Rossetti reflects on things that are heavy, brief, frail, and deep. She shares both concrete items and metaphorical ones, whether it’s a state of mind or moment in time. It’s a poem that makes the reader reflect on the meaning of life.","Christina Rossetti",,0,202,33
253,"2018-02-27 22:08:44","Love After Love",4.28,"The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other's welcome, And say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was yourself. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life. more Derek Walcott","Much of the inspiration for Derek Walcott's poetry comes from the history of Saint Lucia, where he was born. This poem has a theme of accepting yourself as you are. Before you can love others, you need to love yourself.","Derek Walcott",,0,701,560
254,"2018-02-27 22:08:46","All The World's A Stage",4.28,"All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. more William Shakespeare","William Shakespeare (1564-1616) is regarded by many as one of the greatest poets/playwrights in history. This poem is an excerpt from his play ""As you like it"" The poem compares the world to a stage and life to a play, and catalogs seven stages in a man's life: infant, schoolboy, lover, soldier, justice, pantaloon, and old age, facing imminent death. The poem suggests that each stage in a man's life calls upon him to play another role.","William Shakespeare",,1,588,441
255,"2018-02-27 22:08:49","A Naughty Little Comet",4.28,"There was a little comet who lived near the Milky Way! She loved to wander out at night and jump about and play. The mother of the comet was a very good old star; She used to scold her reckless child for venturing out too far. She told her of the ogre, Sun, who loved on stars to sup, And who asked no better pastime than in gobbling comets up. But instead of growing cautious and of showing proper fear, The foolish little comet edged up nearer, and more near. She switched her saucy tail along right where the Sun could see, And flirted with old Mars, and was as bold as bold could be. She laughed to scorn the quiet stars who never frisked about; She said there was no fun in life unless you ventured out. She liked to make the planets stare, and wished no better mirth Than just to see the telescopes aimed at her from the Earth. She wondered how so many stars could mope through nights and days, And let the sickly faced old Moon get all the love and praise. And as she talked and tossed her head and switched her shining trail The staid old mother star grew sad, her cheek grew wan and pale. For she had lived there in the skies a million years or more, And she had heard gay comets talk in just this way before. And by and by there came an end to this gay comet's fun. She went a tiny bit too far-and vanished in the Sun! No more she swings her shining trail before the whole world's sight, But quiet stars she laughed to scorn are twinkling every night. more Ella Wheeler Wilcox","This classic, fun and rhythmic poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919), is a cautionary tale about a mother daughter struggle that will be familiar to many parents of teenagers. The lesson taught is the virtues of a cautious and modest approach to life. The bold and fun loving daughter doesn't listen to the scolding of her wise mother and instead runs wild, reveling in her youth and beauty. In the end the mother's fears come true.","Ella Wheeler Wilcox",,0,145,18
256,"2018-02-27 22:08:54",Aerialist,4.15,"Each night, this adroit young lady Lies among sheets Shredded fine as snowflakes Until dream takes her body From bed to strict tryouts In tightrope acrobatics. Nightly she balances Cat-clever on perilous wire In a gigantic hall, Footing her delicate dances To whipcrack and roar Which speak her maestro's will. Gilded, coming correct Across that sultry air, She steps, halts, hung In dead center of her act As great weights drop all about her And commence to swing. Lessoned thus, the girl Parries the lunge and menace Of every pendulum; By deft duck and twirl She draws applause; bright harness Bites keen into each brave limb Then, this tough stint done, she curtsies And serenely plummets down To traverse glass floor And get safe home; but, turning with trained eyes, Tiger-tamer and grinning clown Squat, bowling black balls at her. Tall trucks roll in With a thunder like lions; all aims And lumbering moves more Sylvia Plath","Sylvia Plath lived in both the United States and England during her life. Most of the poems written by Plath were crafted in the last months of her life. This poem was written on her 30th birthday, just a few months before her death in 1963.","Sylvia Plath",,0,53,72
257,"2018-02-27 22:08:58","Song About Old Troll",4.15,"Troll sat alone on his seat of stone, And munched and mumbled a bare old bone; For many a year he had gnawed it near, For meat was hard to come by. Done by! Gum by! In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone, And meat was hard to come by. Up came Tom with his big boots on. Said he to Troll: ""Pray, what is yon? For it looks like the shin o' my nuncle Tim, As should be a-lyin' in graveyard. Caveyard! Paveyard! This many a year has Tim been gone, And I thought he were lyin' in graveyard."" ""My lad,"" said Troll, ""this bone I stole. But what be bones that lie in a hole? Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o' lead, Afore I found his shinbone. Tinbone! Thinbone! He can spare a share for a poor old troll, For he don't need his shinbone."" Said Tom: ""I don't see why the likes o' thee Without axin' leave should go makin' free With the shank or the shin o' my father's kin; So hand the old bone over! Rover! Trover! Though dead he be, it belongs to he; So hand the old bone over!"" ""For a couple o' pins,"" says Troll, and grins, ""I'll eat thee too, and gnaw thy shins. A bit o' fresh meat will go down sweet! I'll try my teeth on thee now.* Hee now! See now! I'm tired o' gnawing old bones and skins; I've a mind to dine on thee now."" *[as read by Tolkien on the tape:] Thee'll be a nice change from thine nuncle. Sunkle! Drunkle! I'm tired of gnawing old bones and skins; Thee'll be a nice change from thine nuncle."" But just as he thought his dinner was caught, He found his hands had hold of naught. Before he could mind, Tom slipped behind And gave him the boot to larn him. Warn him! Darn him! A bump o' the boot on the seat, Tom thought, Would be the way to larn him. But harder than stone is the flesh and bone Of a troll that sits in the hills alone. As well set your boot to the mountain's root, For the seat of a troll don't feel it. Peel it! Heal it! Old Troll laughed, when he heard Tom groan, And he knew his toes could feel it. Tom's leg is game, since home he came, And his bootless foot is lasting lame; But Troll don't care, and he's still there With the bone he boned from it's owner. Doner! Boner! Troll's old seat is still the same, And the bone he boned from it's owner! more J. R. R. Tolkien","J. R. R. Tolkien is famous for his fantasy novels The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. This poem was sung by Sam Gamgee in The Lord of the Rings. Audio clips can be found of J. R. R. Tolkien singing this song himself.","J. R. R. Tolkien",,0,114,136
258,"2018-02-27 22:09:01",Music,4.14,"Sweet melody amidst the moving spheres Breaks forth, a solemn and entrancing sound, A harmony whereof the earth's green hills Give but the faintest echo; yet is there A music everywhere, and concert sweet! All birds which sing amidst the forest deep Till the flowers listen with unfolded bells; All winds that murmur over summer grass, Or curl the waves upon the pebbly shore; Chiefly all earnest human voices rais'd In charity and for the cause of truth, Mingle together in one sacred chord, And float, a grateful incense, up to God. more Bessie Rayner Parkes","Bessie Rayner Parkes lived from 1829-1925. She was an English feminist who became an editor of the Britain's first feminist magazine. This poem showcases how nature creates a concert for anyone who stops to listen.","Bessie Rayner Parkes",,0,155,201
259,"2018-02-27 22:09:07","Circus In Three Rings",4.13,"In the circus tent of a hurricane designed by a drunken god my extravagant heart blows up again in a rampage of champagne-colored rain and the fragments whir like a weather vane while the angels all applaud. Daring as death and debonair I invade my lion's den; a rose of jeopardy flames in my hair yet I flourish my whip with a fatal flair defending my perilous wounds with a chair while the gnawings of love begin. Mocking as Mephistopheles, eclipsed by magician's disguise, my demon of doom tilts on a trapeze, winged rabbits revolving about his knees, only to vanish with devilish ease in a smoke that sears my eyes. more Sylvia Plath","Sylvia Plath was an American poet who lived from 1932-1963. Sylvia’s dad died during her childhood, and her husband left her for another woman. She experienced heartbreak and depression that ultimately led to her commit suicide at the age of 30. Her poetry was raw and honest, which can be seen in the chaos she captures in this poem. The hurricane mentioned in the poem could be compared to the personal struggles that swirled inside of her.","Sylvia Plath",,0,100,115
260,"2018-02-27 22:09:11","Annabel Lee",4.53,"It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me- Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we- Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea. more Edgar Allan Poe","Annabel Lee was the last poem written by Poe. Like many of Poe's poems, this one is about lost love. It was published in 1849 shortly after his death. The subject mourns the death of his young love, Annabel Lee, and blames the angels for killing her out of jealousy for their love. He has since then slept by her grave, unable to accept her death. Edgar Allen Poe once said that the death of a beautiful woman is ""the most poetical topic in the world"". In this poem, the subject's lover, Annabel Lee was killed. The subject of the poem affirms that the love between him and Annabel Lee is so strong that even death can't separate them.","Edgar Allan Poe",,1,673,400
261,"2018-02-27 22:09:14","In The Orchard",4.50,"""I thought you loved me."" ""No, it was only fun."" ""When we stood there, closer than all?"" ""Well, the harvest moon ""Was shining and queer in your hair, and it turned my head."" ""That made you?"" ""Yes."" ""Just the moon and the light it made ""Under the tree?"" ""Well, your mouth, too."" ""Yes, my mouth?"" ""And the quiet there that sang like the drum in the booth. ""You shouldn't have danced like that."" ""Like what?"" ""So close, ""With your head turned up, and the flower in your hair, a rose ""That smelt all warm."" ""I loved you. I thought you knew ""I wouldn't have danced like that with any but you."" ""I didn't know. I thought you knew it was fun."" ""I thought it was love you meant."" ""Well, it's done."" ""Yes, it's done. ""I've seen boys stone a blackbird, and watched them drown ""A kitten ... it clawed at the reeds, and they pushed it down ""Into the pool while it screamed. Is that fun, too?"" ""Well, boys are like that ... Your brothers..."" ""Yes, I know. ""But you, so lovely and strong! Not you! Not you!"" ""They don't understand it's cruel. It's only a game."" ""And are girls fun, too?"" ""No, still in a way it's the same. ""It's queer and lovely to have a girl..."" ""Go on."" ""It makes you mad for a bit to feel she's your own, ""And you laugh and kiss her, and maybe you give her a ring, ""But it's only in fun."" ""But I gave you everything."" ""Well, you shouldn't have done it. You know what a fellow thinks ""When a girl does that."" ""Yes, he talks of her over his drinks ""And calls her a—"" ""Stop that now. I thought you knew."" ""But it wasn't with anyone else. It was only you."" ""How did I know? I thought you wanted it too. ""I thought you were like the rest. Well, what's to be done?"" ""To be done?"" ""Is it all right?"" ""Yes."" ""Sure?"" ""Yes, but why?"" ""I don't know. I thought you were going to cry. ""You said you had something to tell me."" ""Yes, I know. ""It wasn't anything really ... I think I'll go."" ""Yes, it's late. There's thunder about, a drop of rain ""Fell on my hand in the dark. I'll see you again ""At the dance next week. You're sure that everything's right?"" ""Yes."" ""Well, I'll be going."" ""Kiss me..."" ""Good night."" ... ""Good night."" more Muriel Stuart",,"Muriel Stuart",,0,63,6
262,"2018-02-27 22:09:21","The Raven",4.32,"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-- While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. ""'Tis some visiter,"" I muttered, ""tapping at my chamber door-- Only this and nothing more."" Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore-- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-- Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating ""'Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door-- Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;-- This it is and nothing more."" Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, ""Sir,"" said I, ""or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you""--here I opened wide the door;-- Darkness there and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, ""Lenore?"" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, ""Lenore!""-- Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. ""Surely,"" said I, ""surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-- Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-- 'Tis the wind and nothing more!"" Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-- Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, ""Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,"" I said, ""art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore-- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"" Quoth the Raven ""Nevermore."" Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door-- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as ""Nevermore."" But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he uttered--not a feather then he fluttered-- Till I scarcely more than muttered ""Other friends have flown before-- On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."" Then the bird said ""Nevermore."" Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, ""Doubtless,"" said I, ""what it utters is its only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-- Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of ‘Never--nevermore'."" But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking ""Nevermore."" This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. ""Wretch,"" I cried, ""thy God hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore; Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"" Quoth the Raven ""Nevermore."" ""Prophet!"" said I, ""thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!-- Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-- On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore-- Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!"" Quoth the Raven ""Nevermore."" ""Prophet!"" said I, ""thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore-- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."" Quoth the Raven ""Nevermore."" ""Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!"" I shrieked, upstarting-- ""Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"" Quoth the Raven ""Nevermore."" And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted--nevermore! more Edgar Allan Poe","One of the most famous poems ever written, ""The Raven"" by Edgar Allen Poe is a delightfully spooky dark poem. What makes this poem so remarkable? There is a certain romance in darkness and melancholy. There is something mysterious about that which is hidden and unknown. Dark poems seek to romanticize sadness and depression. There is much room for creativity in this genre.","Edgar Allan Poe",,0,501,243
263,"2018-02-27 22:09:24",Choice,4.29,"I'd rather have the thought of you To hold against my heart, My spirit to be taught of you With west winds blowing, Than all the warm caresses Of another love's bestowing, Or all the glories of the world In which you had no part. I'd rather have the theme of you To thread my nights and days, I'd rather have the dream of you With faint stars glowing, I'd rather have the want of you, The rich, elusive taunt of you Forever and forever and forever unconfessed Than claim the alien comfort Of any other's breast. O lover! O my lover, That this should come to me! I'd rather have the hope of you, Ah, Love, I'd rather grope for you Within the great abyss Than claim another's kiss- Alone I'd rather go my way Throughout eternity. more Angela Morgan","Angela Morgan was an American author who lived from 1875-1957. She wrote about many social issues, both of the wealthy and the poor. The narrator in this poem would rather hold onto thoughts of a loved one who has moved on than love another because no one can make the narrator feel the same way.","Angela Morgan",,1,328,345
264,"2018-02-27 22:09:25",Ebb,4.27,"I know what my heart is like Since your love died: It is like a hollow ledge Holding a little pool Left there by the tide, A little tepid pool, Drying inward from the edge. more Edna St. Vincent Millay","In this poem, Edna St. Vincent Millay powerfully portrays the heartbreak of losing a lover. She uses a shrinking pool of water as a metaphor for the feelings of loss and heartbreak.","Edna St. Vincent Millay",,0,72,214
265,"2018-02-27 22:09:29",May,4.23,"The wind is tossing the lilacs, The new leaves laugh in the sun, And the petals fall on the orchard wall, But for me the spring is done. Beneath the apple blossoms I go a wintry way, For love that smiled in April Is false to me in May. more Sara Teasdale","Sara Teasdale was an American poet who lived from 1884-1933. This poem is about a woman who has not been treated well by a man. It shows how time can change a part of a person's life drastically. Teasdale's own marriage to Ernst Filsinger ended in 1929. Even while it appears that a person's life is as bright and beautiful as spring, she could feel like winter on the inside.","Sara Teasdale",,0,85,130
266,"2018-02-27 22:09:32","The Kiss",4.18,"I hoped that he would love me, And he has kissed my mouth, But I am like a stricken bird That cannot reach the south. For though I know he loves me, To-night my heart is sad; His kiss was not so wonderful As all the dreams I had. more Sara Teasdale","Sara Teasdale was an American poet who lived from 1884-1933. In 1913 she courted two men before deciding to marry Ernst Filsinger. Some wonder if she wished she chose Vachel Lindsay because her marriage to Filsinger ended in divorce in 1929. This poem shows that not all things are as wonderful as they first appear to be.","Sara Teasdale",,1,92,179
267,"2018-02-27 22:09:34","Lone Gentleman",3.95,"The gay young men and the love-sick girls, and the abandoned widows suffering in sleepless delirium, and the young pregnant wives of thirty hours, and the raucous cats that cruise my garden in the shadows, like a necklace of pulsating oysters of sex surround my lonely residence, like enemies lined up against my soul, like conspirators in bedroom clothes who exchange long deep kisses to order. The radiant summer leads to lovers in predictable melancholic regiments, made of fat and skinny, sad and happy pairings: under the elegant coconut palms, near the ocean and the moon, goes an endless movement of trousers and dresses, a whisper of silk stockings being caressed, and womens breasts that sparkle like eyes. The little employee, after it all, after the weeks boredom, and novels read by night in bed, has definitively seduced the girl next door, and carried her away to a run-down movie house where the heroes are studs or princes mad with passion, and strokes her legs covered with soft down with his moist and ardent hands that smell of cigarettes. The seducers afternoons and married peoples nights come together like the sheets and bury me, and the hours after lunch when the young male students and the young girl students, and the priests, masturbate, and the creatures fornicate outright, and the bees smell of blood, and the flies madly buzz, and boy and girl cousins play oddly together, and doctors stare in fury at the young patients husband, and the morning hours in which the professor, as if to pass the time, performs his marriage duties, and breakfasts, and moreover, the adulterers, who love each other truly on beds as high and deep as ocean liners: finally, eternally surrounding me is a gigantic forest breathing and tangled with gigantic flowers like mouths with teeth and black roots in the shape of hooves and shoes. more Pablo Neruda","Pablo Neruda lived from 1904-1973 and was considered one of the greatest poets of his time who wrote in Spanish. Although he wrote in Spanish, his first wife did not even know how to speak the language. He was inspired by Walt Whitman and kept a framed picture of him on his table.","Pablo Neruda",,0,26,41
268,"2018-02-27 22:09:36","To A Young Girl",3.89,"My dear, my dear, I know More than another What makes your heart beat so; Not even your own mother Can know it as I know, Who broke my heart for her When the wild thought, That she denies And has forgot, Set all her blood astir And glittered in her eyes more William Butler Yeats","William Butler Yeats was an Irish poet who lived from 1865-1936. He started out studying painting, but he found his true passion in poetry. In 1923, he received the Nobel Prize for Literature. In this poem, he writes of a girl who broke his heart to please her mother, but he knows she still loves him.","William Butler Yeats",,0,49,162
269,"2018-02-27 22:09:38","A Holiday",2.97,"The Wife The house is like a garden, The children are the flowers, The gardener should come methinks And walk among his bowers, Oh! lock the door on worry And shut your cares away, Not time of year, but love and cheer, Will make a holiday. The Husband Impossible! You women do not know The toil it takes to make a business grow. I cannot join you until very late, So hurry home, nor let the dinner wait. The Wife The feast will be like Hamlet Without a Hamlet part: The home is but a house, dear, Till you supply the heart. The Xmas gift I long for You need not toil to buy; Oh! give me back one thing I lack - The love-light in your eye. The Husband Of course I love you, and the children too. Be sensible, my dear, it is for you I work so hard to make my business pay. There, now, run home, enjoy your holiday. The Wife (turning) He does not mean to wound me, I know his heart is kind. Alas! that man can love us And be so blind, so blind. A little time for pleasure, A little time for play; A word to prove the life of love And frighten care away! Tho' poor my lot in some small cot That were a holiday. The Husband (musing) She has not meant to wound me, nor to vex - Zounds! but 'tis difficult to please the sex. I've housed and gowned her like a very queen Yet there she goes, with discontented mien. I gave her diamonds only yesterday: Some women are like that, do what you may. more Ella Wheeler Wilcox","Ella Wheeler Wilcox was an American poet who lived from 1850-1919. She was known as a poet even before she graduated high school. In this poem, a wife wants to receive more love from her husband, and the husband wishes the wife would see how hard he works for her.","Ella Wheeler Wilcox",,0,35,36
270,"2018-02-27 22:09:44","My True Friend",4.57,"You always answer when I call And help me up if I should fall, But you never complain at all, My true friend. You confront me when I am wrong But will never scold me for long, Instead, you try to keep me strong, My true friend. You know the funny things to say To make me laugh my fears away. Like the sun, you brighten my day, My true friend. You see in me gifts I deny And urge me to give things a try. You spread for me my wings to fly, My true friend. You always perceive what I need And offer it before I plead. Just like a book, my mind you read, My true friend. You value little things I do But won't brag of what you do too. How can I ever repay you, My true friend? And greatest of all I have found When times are tough and I'm down, You are the one who sticks around, My true friend. more by Abimbola T. Alabi","A true friend is a rare gem, and I'm blessed with one - the inspiration for this poem. If you also have that special friend, I hope this helps you celebrate him/her. You may hum the good old ""My Mother"" tune as you read. Hope you enjoy it.","Abimbola T. Alabi","December 31, 2017",2,1317,141
271,"2018-02-27 22:09:47","True Friends",4.44,"True friends are by your side through it all. True friends are there to catch you when you fall. True friends give your life a happy lift. True friends are a most precious gift. True friends will care about you forever. True friends want to be with you on every endeavor. True friends can make you laugh and cry. True friends can be girls or guys. True friends can get mad at each other. True friends can be your sisters or brothers. True friends will never truly leave you. True friends will love you no matter what you do. True friends really know you but love you anyway. True friends are those who are always asking you if you're okay. True friends know that hate is a very strong word. True friends don't believe every story they've heard. True friends will tell you the truth, even if it's not what you want to hear. True friends are always there with a hug and a listening ear. True friends will tell you things that are true. True friends will do anything they can to help you. True friends love to spend time with you. True friends love to tease you too. True friends tease all in good fun. True friends don't care if you've lost or won. I will love you forever, my friend. I will stay by your side until the very end. You'll be in my heart, as I pray for you each day. You are my truest friend in every way. more by Mermaid","This poem describes my relationships with my friends (true friends that is): how they're always there for me and love me no matter what.",Mermaid,"May 2015",5,3315,703
272,"2018-02-27 22:09:49","A Friend Can Save A Life",4.41,"That girl's heart aches, Her smile is fake. The cuts sting, Her phone rings. She ignores And thinks life's a bore. But she doesn't know There are people who care. She doesn't know That they've always been there. She's tired of being joked at school, She's tired of being called a fool. She's ready to pull out the knife, Ready to end her life. There she sits alone crying, Wondering about if she were dying. ""Would they even notice I was gone?"" ""Or would they just carry on?"" As she lures the knife, She hears a strange sound. She hides the blade, As her heart pounds. She walks out the door, There's her best friend, Trying to get in. As her friend cried, she heard her say, ""Thank God you're okay!"" A FRIEND CAN SAVE A LIFE","I've lost people in my life because of suicide. The more i think about it, the more I think it's partially my fault for not being a good friend when they needed one.","Paige Bryant","March 2015",1,184,417
273,"2018-02-27 22:09:52","For Your Reassurance",4.40,"If you told me to describe a true friend, I'd describe you in a heartbeat. If you wanted to know how unique you are, I'd tell you no one could ever make a repeat. If you say you needed a friend like me, Then I'd never say goodbye. If someone tried to put you down, I'd tell you how they're full of lies. If you wondered what beauty looked like, I'd tell you to look at your reflection. And if you asked me what I thought I saw, I'd say I saw perfection.","I wrote this for a friend to remind him how special he is to me.","Vanessa O.","December 2016",0,902,177
274,"2018-02-27 22:09:58","A Friend Found In Music",4.37,"Music is the ocean That pulls me to the shore. Music is the rhythm That moves me to the core. Music is the therapy I need when I feel blue. Music lifts my spirits To make sure I pull through. The times when I'm most cheerful, It's clear music was there. Music is the needed friend When no one seems to care. more by Bryanna T. Perkins","I always go to music when I feel blue, so I decided to write a poem about music, who never fails to cheer me up.","Bryanna T. Perkins","March 2016",1,292,147
275,"2018-02-27 22:09:59","Here For You",4.35,"The past you cannot forget or undo, The future is all we can look forward to. I wish I could have been there by your side... For all the times you've wept and cried. Know from my heart, what I say is true... That I hurt for the pain you have been through. Never alone shall you be, Someday, freedom you will see May your hopes and dreams come true, No matter where you are, I'll always be here for you. Dedicated to Stacey","The author talks about how she has not always been there for her friend. She wishes that she was, and promises to always be available in the future.","Nicolette J. Proffitt","February 2006",10,813,1759
276,"2018-02-27 22:10:01","My Sister, My Friend",4.31,"To me, you are an angel in disguise, Full of intuition, intelligent and wise, Always giving and helping me through good times and bad. You are the best friend I've ever had. If I had one wish, it would surely be to give you as much as you've given me. Though I've put our relationship through some cloudy days, you've been my sunshine in so many ways. Through trials and tests, right by me you stood and gave me your hand whenever you could. Thank you so much, my sister, my friend. My gratitude for you has no end....","A sister is a true friend.","Zhai Dueñas","May 2008",16,441,1769
277,"2018-02-27 22:10:03","A Friendship Left Not Forbidden",4.29,"When you're lost in the eternity of sorrow And despair flows in every vessel within you There's always a comrade, like a hero Who lightens and settles your life to glow. When you're carrying an aching burden And the purpose of your life's left hidden There's always an angel from the heavens Who breaks the rules which are forbidden And saves you from the tomb of desperation. A comrade, a hero, an angel... Whatever you call him, he's a friend Who listens, who comforts, who understands And who's worthy to be one of a kind. more by Shermain Joy Lipao","I am a lonely person and writing poems is one way of relieving the pains inside me. And outside this loneliness are friends who stays, comforts, understands and saves. Yes, all of us have precious friends in our lives. Either friends for life or friends for just a short period of time. The ones who remains are the ones who we consider our true friends.","Shermain Joy Lipao","April 2009",0,166,413
278,"2018-02-27 22:10:07","Ode To Friendships",4.28,"They're the few people who accept silence over conversation A relationship like this denies silly promises and persuasion You don't feel the need to second guess thoughts or measure words Their love comes in wholes, not halves, not thirds They're the ones that guide you through when fate takes a turn Fights, small and large, end in forgiveness, never a burn You forget about first impressions and the feelings they brought You're grateful for who they are and you forgive 'em for what they're not","I'm a 14-year-old girl living in Alberta, Canada. This poem was written on a day when I was reminiscing memories of my friends. They were both unsure of the schools they were going to attend in grade 10, and this had torn me apart. Just the thought of not seeing them every day in the morning hallways was an unimaginable idea because things just don't work like that! My poem shows my immense appreciation that I have for these 2 amazing people in my life, and I feel that it describes our relationship perfectly.","Kayla Rae Pich","May 2015",2,1651,1327
279,"2018-02-27 22:10:09","What Friendship Means",4.22,"Friendship means being there just to be there. Friendship means listening and not asking questions. Friendship means lending your shoulder for someone to cry on. Friendship means being comfortable around each other in silence. Friendship means being able to tell each other anything and understanding without questions. Friendship means being honest with each other no matter what the cost. Friendship means staying up all night and talking about nothing. Friendship means being able to say I love you! Friendship means forgiving each other no matter what you have done. Friendship means learning from each others mistakes. Friendship means me and you. This is the way I look at you, my friend, and I love you!!","I wrote this poem when my friend and I were having problems...and the only way I could get my feelings out was to write this poem.","Tracie Labauve","June 2007",6,898,854
280,"2018-02-27 22:10:13",Soar,4.56,"I know you wish you were perfect, That you could just say what was on your mind, But you have to learn to love yourself, And that could take some time. You need to stop dreaming, And just let your thoughts go. Stop trying to be perfect, And let your dreams flow. Sometimes life has its twists and turns. You just have to find your way, Because you can get through it, No matter what people say. Though some people will try to tear you down, We will help you get up, And we will always be your steady That's there for the cleanup. Because I know you wish you were perfect, But you're everything and more, And sometimes when you feel tied down, You just need to spread your wings and soar.","I have always struggled to be myself because I was so focused on being the person others wanted to see. This is about me and my friends and how they were always there for me when I needed to be picked up from the ground.","Brooke M. Van Pelt","February 1, 2018",0,224,27
281,"2018-02-27 22:10:18","An Angel Named Amanda",4.44,"I have the greatest friend on earth Sisters by God but not by birth I owe her a lot for all she has done for me Without her in my life I am not sure where I'd be We will be best friends forever until we die We have certain jokes that no one would understand but her and I Together we share our life story We look for good in others glory She is amazing every single day I admire and look up to her in every way She understands me and I don't have to explain She brings her sunshine to the rain Someone sent by god to do great things One of heaven's angels with no visible wings If you ever meet Amanda then you will see Why she is the definition of the greatest friend to me. Amanda, thanks for always being there for me You have shown me just how best friends should be!","Some friends are so perfect for us that they are put into the category of angels. We know that they could only have been seen by God.","Summer Matlick","July 2007",9,695,760
282,"2018-02-27 22:10:23","My Darling",4.44,"My darling, My girl, Why are you so sad? Why can't you see that life is not all bad? You're my angel, Please don't cry, I don't understand, so please tell me why? Your beautiful face, Your fading smile, I vow to make you happy for more than just a while. You're so precious, Why can't you see? I beg you to break that chain, Then you'll be free. The past is gone, It's not going to change, But the future is yours... For you to arrange, Live your life, Be happy, don't cry, I'm here and now those tears can dry. I love you, my darling, Let go of the sorrow, Because I'm here for you.... Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. more by Emma Marie Etwell","I wrote this poem for a partner of mine who went through a bad time with depression.","Emma Marie Etwell","March 2009",1,2201,670
283,"2018-02-27 22:10:25","Love Walked On By",4.43,"As she walked on by You could see a glint in her eye It started with a smile And lasted awhile She told him of her dream wondering what it would mean Had she scared him away or would he stay He lay awake all night trying to fight, what seemed so right A simple txt, a nervous reply How could he deny True love, that walked on by more by Kevin","As we fall asleep images pass through our minds, that person that passed fleetingly through our life, could she be the one true love?",Kevin,"November 2007",2,58,72
284,"2018-02-27 22:10:27","If I",4.41,"If I could erase your troubles And throw them in the sea Where the world would just be You and me If I could build a mountain You could call it your own To make life there And build a home If I could make your love come true Every second of life I'd be with you If I could make a moon For the darkness it would erase I would carve on it alone Your angelic face If I could make an ocean full of blue I'd make sure that the only swimmer was you If I could blend hearts to make the world fine I'd blend your heart with mine Catch you and hold you for all the days to come Together, our life is already won: D more by Ariel Smith","I'm a very strong writer...for my age. I'm young, barely a teenager, and am inspired by a lot of things. Family, friends, love. I'm often involved in love stories with my friends and this just popped in my head one day. I like to write to help let go of my emotions. Hope you like my future poems (:","Ariel Smith","August 2012",3,315,389
285,"2018-02-27 22:10:31","I Will Be Here For You",4.40,"When you're sad and depressed, I will be here to put a smile on your face. When you're angry and frustrated, I will be here to calm you down. When you're hurt and in tears, I will be here to wipe them away and mend the pain. When you're lonely and have no one, I will be here to comfort you. When you're feeling unloved and unwanted, I will be here to tell you how very important you are. When you're having a bad day and need to lash out, I will be here to let you let off steam, you can yell at me. When there is something on your mind that you need to say, I will be here to listen and understand. When you're lost in confusion, I will be here to help you figure things out. When you feel like you're going crazy, I will be here to bring you back to sanity. When you are so overwhelmed and need to get away, I will be here with open arms so we can run away together. When your scared and frightened, I will be here to protect you and make you feel safe. When you are full of worries, I will be here to worry with you. I promise that I will always be here for my loved ones, today, tomorrow and forever! more by Angie","This is a promise to all my friends and family that I will always be here for them.",Angie,"October 2008",9,3006,2136
286,"2018-02-27 22:10:35","Send Us An Angel",4.39,"Ever mess up and can't fix your mistake Only have one friend, cause they're too hard to make Ever feel alone, by yourself in the world sit in bed at night as your brain starts to twirl ever been hurt so bad that you can't recover no one to talk to not a friend sister or brother all you got left to do is pray pray for a better way. cause when life gives you trouble, what can you do? pray that god sends an angel to you. cause if you had an angel to brighten your smile sit and talk to you once and a while imagine your problems disappear if only a friend would appear so pray, pray for a better way, it's all you got left to do pray God sends an angel to you. more by Skylar","I was just having a bad day, and needed to talk to someone. I wished that if I had an angel, someone that was really special, that I could tell anything to, that was all I really needed.",Skylar,"October 2008",3,110,339
287,"2018-02-27 22:10:38","Deafening Silence",4.38,"I look deep into your eyes but all I see are lies where there was hurt and suffering there's now a black hole of nothing I don't know if I can save you after everything we've gone through but I'll try until the day I die because you deserve so much more you're someone worth fighting for more by Sarah H.","I have a friend who I've been in love with for the past three years. He has no idea how I really feel about him. He's been through a lot in the past few years and he's changed so much, and it's killing me to see him hurting so much.","Sarah H.","April 2014",1,34,69
288,"2018-02-27 22:10:41","My Special Friend",4.34,"God blessed me one sunny day. He sent me an angel from so far away To love and help me though all my woes, To guide and stand by me when I face my foes. Then one day God called her back I missed my angel, so I followed her tracks. Now in heaven all safe and sound, I see my angel flying around. Now it's my turn to do a good deed. I'm sent back to earth to help people in need, So when life's lessons are getting you down, Don't sit there sulking and wearing a frown. Sit back and reflect all the good times you've seen, Like weddings, birthdays and places you've been. Think yourselves lucky because we are still here To hold the memories of loved ones so dear. more by Terrie Brushette","This is the angel I'm sure we all have had one at one time or another. Dave was mine to the very end.","Terrie Brushette","January 2008",2,75,515
289,"2018-02-27 22:10:45","Hold My Hand And Lean On Me",4.34,"Hold my hands so I can lead you to a beautiful land A land where there's no more suffering, pain nor tears and there I'll know you'll be safe in that beautiful land Hold my hands tight as we soar in the sky to see what's ahead behind that beautiful light Hold my hands and don't let go Lean on me when you are not strong and I'll carry you all the way home Don't doubt when I am not around, instead close your eyes, because I am only a wish away. Teach me how to have strength like you Cause even when you are sick, I'll never know",Dedication,"Cassandra Darden","February 2008",0,87,115
290,"2018-02-27 22:10:50","Why Play At Being Real?",4.51,"He blew into my life like a sweet summer breeze, Stole my heart in an instant, made me weak in the knees... He seemed so sincere when he'd look in my eyes And say the things I've waited to hear my whole life. I thought he was different... I thought he was real. I never thought I could feel the way he made me feel. I just don't understand why he wasted the time When there was nothing to gain on his end or mine. It was perfectly senseless...not one reason why. He would just disappear without saying goodbye. He had me floating on air, then let me crash to the ground. It's too much to wrap my mind around. Why play at being real? No one wins in the end. Someone always gets hurt when the other pretends. Why say all those things when you don't mean a word? It's mean and it's cruel...it's completely absurd. Now I'm left here to wonder what could've gone wrong, Why he just stopped calling, why he strung me along? My thoughts, they consume me, like a crop consumes rain. Another sleepless night just might drive me insane. I toss and I turn over and over again. I can't help but feel like I've lost my best friend. But a friend would be honest, wouldn't play with your heart. A friend wouldn't lie to you right from the start. A friend would still be there come tomorrow... A friend would comfort, not cause you sorrow.  I wonder if....whatever his reasons may be That surely he knew his actions would hurt me? And I wonder if from time to time The thought of me might cross his mind? Does he think about my ""angel"" eyes Filled with tears because he lied? Does my memory haunt him in his sleep? For him it's probably not that deep. I truly wish him all the best, Hope he's okay and finds happiness...  Finds everything he's looking for.... Good health, true love and so much more. I miss him, and it breaks my heart, That it had to end before it got to start. more by Shannon Michelle Haynes","I was inspired to write this poem after being stood up for the 3rd time by a guy who had led me to believe he was completely into me. Phone conversations in the middle of the night that would last for hours, dates that were absolutely awesome on every level, unbelievable rapport and compatibility, physical attraction... just a lot in common... like twin flames. But then he started making dates but never showed or even called, sometimes until a week or two later. Then he just stopped... no closure.","Shannon Michelle Haynes","May 2016",1,386,182
291,"2018-02-27 22:10:55","Best Friends?",4.43,"What are best friends? Are they always there for you? Do they keep secrets? Do they hide from you? Do they stay by your side? Or do they trash you to your enemies? Do they comfort you in tough times? Or do they make fun of you like you have fleas? Do they pretend they care? Do they stab you in the back? Do they actually care? Or do they use you? I don't know what a best friend is Because I thought I had one But it turns out, She makes me feel like a fool. I defended her in school When everyone else made fun I hung out with her Even if it meant not being cool. After everything I do She ends up taking advantage of me Now she barely confides in me Or even consider me a best friend. She has kicked me out of her life Now I'm just another person that goes to school with her. She is liked at school now, With friends galore, But she has kicked out the one Who loved her for her. So tell me, Is this what ""best friends"" do? Because if it is I would rather not have one, I wouldn't want to hurt you.","This poem I wrote when I thought I had lost my best friend to people who didn't deserve an awesome person like her and turned her to their side. I was momentarily confused at that time and still don't know what an actual friend is. I guess I won't until I find one. I hope someone else can relate to what I am talking about.",Alexis,"May 2010",5,138,376
292,"2018-02-27 22:10:56",Abandon,4.42,"I looked up to you when times were bad. I looked up to you when I was sad. I always laughed when you were by my side, until you went behind my back and lied. I felt so betrayed and so alone, and began to realize your true colors that had shown. You hurt me so badly that nothing can compare. You were the one with whom my secrets I thought I could share. You helped me through bad times when people were so mean, and now that you're gone, I feel so deceived. You lied to my face, one only could tell. You left me alone; now I feel like I'm in hell. I have no one to turn to to ask for advice. You leaving me like this is like being squeezed by a vice. I'm in pain; it's not easy to see, and since you've been gone, I have no one beside me. I try to find more friends that are as fun as you, but the more I try, I realize there is nothing more I can do. You're gone forever, whether you know it or not. Me being stuck in this world alone like this, I'd rather be shot. Goodbye forever, you ruined my ability to forgive, and now like this for the rest of my life I shall live.","I lost my best friend. She helped me through the worst of times like when I was picked on and when I was having guy troubles. She was the one person I looked up to for advice. And she betrayed me. Now I have no one...",Georgie,"February 2016",0,276,143
293,"2018-02-27 22:10:58","First And Last",4.39,"Today will be my last and today will be my first The last time I get walked on by you The first time I've moved so far from you The last time I will wait for you to arrive The first time I know for sure I can survive The last time you apologize for your mis-lead ways The first time my feet are at home in the sand and the waves The last time I will worry if you are alright The first time I can watch the sea all night Today is the last day our friendship will survive Tomorrow I'll spare a thought and regret this day arrived I wish you well and I hope you're happy but I can't carry on with you being so dappy. If your heart should change at all Just be sure to give me a call I will always be here hoping for you To be the person you know you're supposed to Life is hard with many changes But it does get easier through the ages So every time you look at a twinkling star Just remember that's me smiling from a far.","I wrote this for a friend who hasn't been much of a friend.",Claire,"March 2010",13,91,443
294,"2018-02-27 22:11:01","You Think",4.38,"You think you're so good. Think you're so perfect in everything. You think you can control my mood. Please, you must be joking. I gave you all my heart. I believed in everything you would say. I trusted you from the start, and everything went your way. I guess I made my biggest mistake when I became loyal to you. You're one of those friends who is fake in everything you say and do. I thought your kindness would last. But now, I feel so used. Because when I think of the past, I thought you'd never give my heart a bruise. Why did I ever rely on a word you said? What did I ever do to deserve this pain? I trusted you, but you hurt me instead, And I don't know if I could believe you again. more by Melissa Rose B. Bulaong","Friends are supposed to be trusted. But who knew that some friends just can't be trusted?","Melissa Rose B. Bulaong","October 2008",1,177,533
295,"2018-02-27 22:11:05","Broken Friendship",4.35,"We said it was forever - said we'd never part, I knew it was a line, but I still gave both of you my heart. Said you would stay, promised you could, You chose to walk away, I knew you would. You're not there anymore, my dearest friends, I hate to say this, but it is our end. By day you're one person, by night another, Neither of them have anything to do with each other. I sit here and cry for you - not for me, What you've become, I wish you could see. In your life you make friends that you're sure are true, Nothing else matters, except what's between them and you. You don't know if anyone has ever before felt this way, For them you took breaths, you wanted to be alive every day. It hurts to lose a friend, it gives you the saddest frown, And when a second one bails, it's like getting kicked while you're down. And it hurts to be accused of something you didn't do, You guys should know better than anyone, that I would never even think to. You planted a knife in my back, You were my life, but now, my memories of you are completely black. I am afraid to love another, but I know I shouldn't be, Because the people in my life are perfect for me. There is this game I play, Where I close my eyes and fade away. I can't believe it's true, but in this place, I can't even remember that I loved you. You can't fix something that's already done. more by Anne Katrine","My two best friends decided to end our friendship at the same time. I'd never been so hurt in my life.","Anne Katrine","February 2011",8,80,429
296,"2018-02-27 22:11:09","My Best And Worst Friend!",4.34,"We said we would be friends till the end. You said you would always be my friend. You stabbed be in the back. Now what we had we can't get back. I see you every day, But I still feel the need to pray. I miss you more and more, But it can never be like before. I will love you forever, But you will never. I guess you're not the same any more, But what happened to before? Did you ever really care? Did you ever really dare? You thought it was a game, So with you lies the blame.","This poem is dedicated to Michelle Simpson, my best and worst friend!","Sarah Mccallister","May 2008",1,74,255
297,"2018-02-27 22:11:11",Forgotten,4.33,"In the beginning we had a rule. Only one rule. Easy, right? We are more important than a guy. But not today. Not this time. You've broken the rule. The one rule. At first it was ok. We talked about everything. I told you my secrets. You told me yours. Next came the mistrust. You told him. You told him everything. But that's ok, right? Then came the abandonment. Every weekend was with him. Every night was with him. Is that still right? Finally came the cut off. I'm ignored. I'm alone. But he's special, I get it. I was always there. I laughed through the good. I helped through the bad. I was your rock. But he's there now, right? As long as your happy, right? Everything's fine, right? We'll get over this, right? No. I'm alone and scared. You're happy and loved. But when you look at history, You're alone after you're loved. Will he always be there? Will he love you forever? Will he laugh at the good? Will he cry at the bad? We were sisters. Now I barely recognize you. I look back, and miss you. Do you even remember me? Or am I forgotten...","I met my best friend in 7th grade. We got really close in the past 3 years. We told each other everything and were sisters. When I went through depression, she was there. Then she started dating a guy. We had a rule that we are more important than a guy. Lately I've been cut out and forgotten. We stopped hanging out and talking. She had him instead. That's when the depression came back. I cried myself to sleep at night. I had no one. I started cutting, but recently found poetry as a better outlet.","Meghan Harrington","July 2013",4,23,152
298,"2018-02-27 22:11:12","Friends That Let You Down",4.30,"These so called friends have let me down And made me feel as though I would drown My heart was broken, like a death to grieve, These friends of mine set out to deceive. We had been friends for many years, With much laughter, fun and tears, We'd had good times, but that was the past, Like many things, they did not last. They did not invite me, The hurt has been caused, They did not ring or call, I think that just about says it all. In my awful dark despair, I really thought they would care, A note, a card, or even some flowers, But they were too mean to even use these powers. They left me crying and so upset, How could they, and yet, ""I'm alright"" they probably said, We don't care, we'll go ahead, They carried on, it did not matter, They all went out for chatter, No doubt to complain, stir and moan, But they had left me all alone. When days were darkest and self-esteem so low, Calls to Samaritans said it all, They came through with flying colours, These friends did not, that's all that matters. The pain they caused will not go away, It cuts deep and strong to this day, To put the phone down on me, screaming abuse, To lie and try to cover up, Oh God, this is so obtuse. I did not think I needed to explain, But my questioning why? fell in vain, They tried to say I was overreacting, They were going to invite me but did not exactly! How can people be so mean? When I was always there so keen, They did not deserve me as a friend, I finally realized this in the end. No peace in their lives will they ever find, They let a friend down badly, not kind! They complained and moaned about each other, This I will not miss, and don't want the bother. I am better, kinder, than they will ever be, Love, respect they no longer have for me, To me they are forever gone, And in my life they no longer belong. A dignified silence is all that remains, I'm free now from all the pain, I realize now they were not real friends, But used me for their own selfish ends. I really think they will miss me, But I've left them alone, and let it be, I miss them not; it turns out in the end, Be content with yourself, why defend? Stand tall, be proud, have peace within. It is only then you can begin To be content with the way you are. Have faith in yourself, you're a shining star. Do not let friends put you down, Destroy your love; stamp it into the ground, Do not put up with their moans and groans, Settle this knowledge into your bones. I am happy now and glad of heart, That these friends and I are apart. I've moved on now and left them behind, To each other they will never be kind. To the rest of my life new friends have come, Ones that you can really depend and rely on, So take heed from my awful quest, And remember, NEW friends really can be BEST.","I have written this after 4 women who I thought were my best friends let me down and broke my heart. It is my way of coping with the rejection and learning to live without them.","Terrie Wilson","August 2010",4,68,262
299,"2018-02-27 22:11:17","Deceit & Deception",4.29,"Lies and deceit, it's all around me Lies and deceptions, two bad surroundings I see no point, I see no end Those are your enemies, who you think are friends. You see and hear it, find it hard to believe They don't want any good, but only to deceive You don't know who to trust, everyone's a target The things they'll do so hard to forget Deceit and deception, over and over The chances of good friend, like four leaf clovers They'll think you don't know or won't find out But surely you do so without a doubt The thing that's done determines your fate makes choices for the best, better soon than late Lies spread like a diseased infection Life's just full of deceit and deception more by Angeline Richards","I have a hard time trusting so called friends. Many times I have be lied to and deceived. So many times I decided to write a poem about it.","Angeline Richards","August 2008",1,139,319
300,"2018-02-27 22:11:19","Best Friend",4.46,"You are my best friend; you belong in my heart. We go through ups and downs, but still nothing can tear us apart. I know you as a sister, and I will always care. Love, respect, and trust are the things we share. I know you as a person; I especially know you as a friend. Our friendship is something that will never end. Right now, this second, this minute, this day, Our sisterhood is here, is here to stay. My friendship with you is special and true. When we are together, we stick like glue. When I'm in the darkness that needs some light, When you're by my side, I know things are all right. Our friendship is so strong; it breaks down bars. Our friendship is also bright, like the sun and the stars. If we were in a competition for friendships, we would get a gold, Because responsibility and cleverness are the keys we hold. I met you as a stranger, took you as a friend. I hope our long friendship will never end. Our friendship is like a magnet; it pulls us together, Because no matter where we are, our friendship will last forever! more by Mizscorpio","I wrote this poem about my best friends, Jazz and Alexis. I can truly say they are amazing.",Mizscorpio,"May 2015",16,7935,2416
301,"2018-02-27 22:11:20","Through Thick And Thin",4.42,"I could skip a heartbeat, and I would survive, I could be in a car crash, and still be alive. The clouds could fall out of the sky, The oceans could disappear, and all turn dry. These things in life are all bad I know, but there's far worse things, just thought you should know. Life would not be the same without someone like you, You're there when I need you to help me through. Through the good times and through the bad, Be them happy, or be them sad. I don't have to be with you, to know you're there, We don't have to see each other, to know that we care. We could be apart for years upon end, and still remain the best of friends. Life goes on, and people change, And through it all, our friendship shall remain the same. That's such as a life, and how things come to be. Just thought you should know, HOW MUCH YOU MEAN TO ME.","We all have friends, or even best friends, but do they always know how much you truly care about them? Just because they aren't always with you, dosen't mean they stop thinking about you, and vice versa. Don't ever forget to tell them how much they mean to you, whether near or far, true friendship is a bond that shall always remain.","Annie Hall","February 2011",14,3105,3396
302,"2018-02-27 22:11:21","A Friend",4.41,"A friend like you is hard to find, one that touches you deep inside. You've given me strength to carry on, you've offered your hand to hold on. When times are tough, I know you're there to offer support and show you care. If not for you, I would have drowned, but you help keep me on solid ground. I believe you were sent from the man above because he knows the strength of your love. You show that love in so many ways. It helps me get through my darkest of days. So for that, I write this poem for you and tell you from my heart, THANK YOU!","Friends are there to support each other through the rough patches of life.","Lisa M. Chapin","November 2007",2,2779,1020
303,"2018-02-27 22:11:25","I Am Always There You're Never Alone",4.39,"When you're feeling down and blue, And life is being cruel to you, Just remember you're not on your own, I'm always there; you're never alone. You might not be able to see my face, As hard as you look around the place, But close your eyes and think of me, And before you know it there will be me. Keep me in the midst of your mind, And life will seem easier, I think you'll find, So when life gets too dark to bear, Just close your eyes and I will be there.","This poem is about never being alone and always having someone that cares.","Ashley Becker","July 2011",0,1717,571