3 A. M.
3 A. M.
The two eyed
beast
awakes me
with its
summons.
“ Write! “
With pen in
hand
I obey
its
command.
3 A. M.
3 A. M.
The two eyed
beast
awakes me
with its
summons.
“ Write! “
With pen in
hand
I obey
its
command.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.