A Red, Red Rose By Robert Burns
A Red, Red Rose By Robert Burns O my luve’s like a red, red rose,That’s newly sprung in June;O my luve’s like the melodieThat’s sweetly
Dagmaris walking away on the beach.
Asunción, her fan, her trim do.
Gloria two days before dying.
Roberto, pointing to nothing.
Idermis behind Oscar, after Jorge.
I so far away I almost cannot make myself out.
My brother wasting a smile.
My aunt as ugly as the word itself.
Grandmother in her best days.
Grandfather with a festive tie.
My father drunk again.
My mother like a distantly spilled perfume.
A Red, Red Rose By Robert Burns O my luve’s like a red, red rose,That’s newly sprung in June;O my luve’s like the melodieThat’s sweetly
The Road Not Taken By Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I
Death Wish By Josh Alex Baker I ask whenis the last time you returned yourself to yourself. Iam a hypocrite to makeyou answer what I
Ode to a Nightingale By John Keats My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,Or emptied some