Is It Poetry
The Bell - Poem by Is It Poetry
Like so many times before you hate I came.
And when again I am and have no love.
Yet sunset comes for most before sunrise.
While the window knows,
and hides our parting clever eyes.
Tell me father sitting high and low.
The only death I know is what I own.
Comments about The Bell by Is It Poetry
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.