Poems from CosmopolitanVagabond
Gentle gale, why art thou blowing,For do you know it is scarcely eight in the morning?Instead of focusing on numbers and words,Thou hast...
Nearly three months of joyful bliss,Are soon to be cut short and sorely missed,For tomorrow commences a new era in time,It marks the death...
The darkened pall of misery has come,
The blade of death has fallen once again,
Upon the neck of youth and happiness,
The plaintive call...