poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

I live in the Twentieth Century
and you lie here beside me. You
were unhappy when you fell asleep.
There was nothing I could do about
it. I felt hopeless. Your face
is so beautiful that I cannot stop
to describe it, and there's nothing
I can do to make you happy while
you sleep.

Added: 19 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 22 Mar 2010 9:00 AM | Viewed: 7460 times

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