Poems from Poetwright1
Emile was a shepherdess,
Every morning she would go outside,
Skip merrily across the fields,
And into the pen
That held her beloved sheep...
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Why do I write poetry?
I write, because I found the road less traveled by.
That day in class,
Where I saw my two roads diverged,
I vowed to...
Why do I write poetry?
I write, because I found the road less traveled by.
That day in class,
Where I saw my two roads diverged,
I vowed to...