Morning After
Shall I tell you of a time
When all the world, I thought, was mine
The moon was full , the stars did shine
intoxicated on the hedy wine
we danced to soundless music through the night
embracing on a bed of lush sweet clover
But when came the mornings glare of light
All that remained was one hell of a hangover
Merlyn commented on Morning After
09-15-2009
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| JULY | 0 | 06/28/2010 |
| Morning After | 1 | 09/14/2009 |
| Last Dance | 1 | 09/14/2009 |
| Rain | 1 | 09/13/2009 |
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