Emily short poem

Photo by Skye Suicide

Emily was a recluse
a quiet introvert
she sat alone
penning poems
wrought with pain and hurt
a lady great
I do relate
I too crave solitude
though in her verse
she did not curse
and mine sometimes are crude
different times
different measures
a new age sort of lit
her …I shall not, please be gone
is now my …. you’re full of it

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 2.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Charlotte Dickson

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
...big ones, help the little onesyou move in the direction of your thoughts...you are where you are today because your thoughts brought you there
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of

Reading Emily Dickinson’s Poem

Reading Emily Dickinsons Poem short poem

If Hope is the thing with feathers, perhaps Life is that stony thing, that stony Enigma. If someday, somehow, somewhere, I catch some glimpses of what makes a heart, a stone, and what makes a stone, watery before someone dies…