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Nicole Marcelino Poems
The Dying Lass
She is but a dying lass That looks out of the window of glass, She hear the rain softly tapping, As the trees kept on dancing.
Books and Stories
I flip through the simple pages, Wondering through the thousand stages. In this play, I play so much roles, All of them having different goals!
True, we can buy so much with money, Yet there is one thing we can't buy truly! It is the people we call 'friends', Those gained when our adventures ends.
Small Little Things
Small Little Things, Flowers are. Whenever I think of them, near or afar, A Smile Appears on my Face, as I try to keep up with the pace!
A Treasure Worth More
Royals, Nobles, Kings and Queens All of them have treasures by all means, But mine is worth more, They are my friends that I adore.
Comments about Nicole Marcelino
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The Dying Lass
She is but a dying lass
That looks out of the window of glass,
She hear the rain softly tapping,
As the trees kept on dancing.
She watched as the thunder boomed,
The darkness being consumed,
The bright sun was hidden,
and the mist was doing the forbidden.
With no one to tame them,
Storm sobs onto the stem,
As the lass stared at them in a daze,
But the sky was where she gaze.
The young girl kept on crying,
As she felt her heart aching,
The heavens cried along,
as the weathers sang their sad song.
It was such a dreary ...