Gravity keeps pulling me down.
I keep getting shorter by the minute.
I’m on my toes stretching up.
But I find that while I’m in it
this world weighs too heavy on me.
And I don’t think it’s due to gravity.
Started out at five-foot three.
I was comfortable with my height.
But now gravity’s got me at five-foot one.
I’m shrinking before my sight.
I guess there’s not a thing I can do.
It’s the gravity of the situation makes me blue.
Edwina Reizer's Other Poems
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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