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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


There are poets whose work, without exaggeration, belongs to the treasures of human thought and rightly is a world heritage. In our electronic library you will find a wide variety of poetry.
Opening a new collection of poems, the reader thus discovers a new world, a new thought, a new form. Rereading the classics, a person receives a magnificent aesthetic pleasure, which doesn’t disappear with the slamming of the book, but accompanies him for a very long time like a Muse. And it isn’t at all necessary to be a poet in order for the Muse to visit you. It is enough to pick up a volume, inside of which is Poetry. Be with us on our website.

Read books online » Poetry » Father by elmokilledcookie (english reading book txt) 📖

Book online «Father by elmokilledcookie (english reading book txt) 📖». Author elmokilledcookie




I was only five years old
At the time I didn’t know what it meant to truly feel “cold”
I remember swinging on the swings back and forth, back and forth
I use to be so scared you would let go,
You did,
But not in a way you would understand

So you use to call me your little princess
Set me on the highest mountain, which was your shoulder
You cried as I walked out the door
Said it looked like I was wrapped in clouds
I smiled at him; he embraced me as we walked down the aisle

I recited the same line he recited to my mother
“…If I was a tear I would want to be born in your eyes, live on your cheeks, and die on your lips…”

You were,
Matter-of-fact, you are my rock
My tea party playing buddy
I miss you dad. Everyone does; you have grandchildren by the way.

Imprint

Publication Date: 10-15-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To my dad for the things he missed out on.

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