Poem starting with Dickenson's line “Beauty crowds me till I die”. I wrote this for my writing workshop class and I thought it was interesting. So I'm sharing it on here, too.
Beauty crowds me till I die
And once I’m gone,
I must lie,
And upon me those there must fawn.
Whilst I ponder the end,
The world around me goes,
Your strength must lend,
But why no one knows.
I slip through the cracks of time,
forgotten and lost,
Nothing left but a dime,
trapped in frost.
Blanketing the world around,
the cold is still and frozen,
Death has been found,
And it is I that has been chosen.
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