Old York
you ride trains for hours
you season you dream
suddenly you can’t sit still
no one hears from you again
you season you dream
suddenly you can’t sit still
no one hears from you again
Old York
Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
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Title | Comments | Submitted |
Old York | 0 | 12/02/2008 |
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