I cannot tell you now;
When the wind's drive and whirl
Blow me along no longer,
And the wind's a whisper at last -
Maybe I'll tell you then
some other time.
Tags: poetry the-great-hunt
Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
Carl SandburgTags: poetry
Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!
But leave me a little love.
Tags: love
God, let me remember all good losers.
Carl SandburgTags: losers
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