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 )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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