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A children's poem.
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A poem concerning the deaths of Sylvia Plath and Assia Wevill.
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A poem in the style of the 60's beats.
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I must confess, I had some fun with this one.
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White, wooden, sunlit masts stand great and tall, like wise old sea-men remembering and recounting whaling battles of their exciting youth. Ships rock..
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A Story by Ethan
I can feel the forest’s willowy breeze tickle my neck. Her trees
creakily yearn for our connection once again, y..
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Life,
I think, is a bit of a paradox.
Floating
through this desolate void devoid of context and explanation, (some might
s..
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Goodbye and good luck.
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Grant me your wisdom, O river lady.
I wish to be a flowing stream.
For nothing lives longer than things like she.
A dying..
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O if I were a romantic wanderer, hailing from distant lands across
that isolating lake and telling stories of valor unspo..
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