Adam M. Snow
In this world I sought for,
who I am and many more;
without a reason but a treason,
without a life, but with a life and none.
To live is profound, much greater is death;
if I could confound, it is that I'm not worthy
for life and for death.
Do I confined myself within my chamber,
to count the days till I remember?
Who am I? Who am I?
Who am I to curse myself so freely, so easily?
A ghost with a reflection,
with no hope, no resurrection.
I encumber my tears
with all things I fear,
there is no end for which I dream.
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Comments about this poem (The Ghost by Adam M. Snow )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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