Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain Its past, enlightened to perceive New periods of pain.
Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain Its past, enlightened to perceive New periods of pain.
2 Comments
sin_free_for_00_days@sopuli.xyz · 4 pts · 211d
Just to fix the formatting:
I first read Dickinson when I was at University. Such a great poet. I think about her sometimes, how almost all of her poetry was found after her death, and how many fine works by others were no doubt never found.
TheReturnOfPEB@reddthat.com · 2 pts · 59d
I'm grateful for the post title being formatted correctly, too. Thankfully Dickinson was prolific as a poet for sure.