Learn more about other poetry terms
You keep trying to piss me off with the games that you play, But I don't think you realize who you are dealing with, and that I can go all day. You want to slam doors, and you think that I am going to go back and fourth with you,
It was 1966- then, so I can only imagine and invent their words myself because I was only three, and still ignorant of politics. Though now I understand
My grandma has a heart bigger than the Minnesota lakes she grew up on. She would give you the shirt of her back if you asked for it, feeds the neighborhood squirrels right out of the palm of her hand,
What can I say to make it better? What can I say to make it not hurt?
I believe we may have missed it the year of reconciliation The prospect of harmony, of order Just a smidgen from symmetry the precarious plane tipped