HOPE

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Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I 've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me."

Excerpt From
Poems
Emily Dickinson

Dear Emily Dickinson,
I dearly wish you were still alive for my heart aches to meet you and my hands ache for your pen, while my mind craves for your words. I love your poetry and you at large❣️. It's really sad missing a soul like yours in this world.
Yours faithfully,
A girl who's dreaming to be your junior self.

MACÉDOINE [Poetry]Where stories live. Discover now