Emily Dickinson Poem

Softened by Time’s consummate plush

0
Please log in or register to do it.

Softened by Time’s consummate plush,
How sleek the woe appears
That threatened childhood’s citadel
And undermined the years.

Bisected now, by bleaker griefs,
We envy the despair
That devastated childhood’s realm,
So easy to repair.

Some Arrows slay but whom they strike
Soft as the massacre of Suns

Reactions

0
0
0
0
0
0
Already reacted for this post.

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

GIF