Mother to Son by Langston Hughes
1 1
1 month
32 views
Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ ...
1
Autumn
1 1The Pain Game
1 1
2 months
55 views
Why do people, want to cause
Other people pain
Where is the Love
That will break the chain
Someone says something
Then it\’s tit-for-tat
I\’ve played this before
We all know the score
Now who\’s up at bat
I think it\’s time, ...
1
The World is too much with Us
1 1
2 months
45 views
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her ...
1
The Raven
1 1
2 months
48 views
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and ...
1
The Road Not Taken
1 1
2 months
63 views
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, ...
1
And I Was Born Again!!!!
1 1
2 months
83 views
Those tiny little things,
which gave me wings,
Never thought your simple blinks,
would make me cling.
Yes, the wait was longer,
You took your time, my Monster.
Everything now, for you my Joker,
Keeping busy, your Mummy blogger.
Seeing you grow, I myself grew,
Never imagined raising a ...
1
One Fish, Two Fish by Theodor Seuss Geisel (Dr. Seuss)
1 1
1 month
53 views
One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish
One fish, Two fish, Red fish, Blue fish,
Black fish, Blue fish, Old fish, New fish.
This one has a little car.
This one has a little star.
Say! What a lot of ...
1
Essay on Criticism by Alexander Pope
1 1
1 month
122 views
But still the worst with most regret commend,
For each ill author is as bad a friend
To what base ends, and by what abject ways,
Are mortals urged, through sacred lust of praise!
Ah, ne’er so dire a thirst ...
1
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