Praise it - 'tis dead - Poem by Emily Dickinson
Praise it - 'tis dead -
Praise it - 'tis dead -
It cannot glow -
Warm this inclement Ear
With the encomium it earned
Since it was gathered here -
Invest this alabaster Zest
In the Delights of Dust -
Remitted - since it flitted it
In recusance august.
Invest this alabaster Zest In the Delights of Dust - Remitted - since it flitted it In recusance august. great write great 10+++++++++++++
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5/10/2024 10:35:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
How bout someone eat my i dont wanna be here.