Ode to Dickinson…

As if I could not stop to see
Death kindly stood by for me
Rhyming away originality
And stealing from Emily…

As if a poem could ever be
Of hers or mine we simply see
A style of verse she sung my soul
And still I aim to reach…

A spirit she came a ghost she was
And yet she spoke quietly
As if the voice was my own
And yet it was hers that set me free…

Her always adoring number one fan…

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About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
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