Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Byron lives on
but died around 1822
a young man of around thirty five
Only just started his life
His poetry was quite alive
He lived at Newstead Abby
A fortunate place to be
As far as I can see
But traveled far and wide so they said or have I lied?
A fortune soul but with a life of toil
Died in his youth
Is I guess the truth!
But his roof
Upon his tortuous head
Is a place of beauty!
So it is seen and said!
A little girl looks up at her mother,
She says “when I get older,
I want to be a doctor, or a poet,
A dancer, or a pilot,
A lawyer, or an artist,
A designer, or a pianist”.
Her mother tells her sadly,
“Baby, I want you to be happy,
And do all the things I couldn’t possibly,
And be all the things I could never be”.
Scratch the surface and what have you got?
a scratched surface.

Another Sunday working
this bible's getting pretty thin
I may survive this onslaught
but the chance is looking slim

She said be brave
I'll save you
from yourself if not from me.
If the king could give his throne to the people, his crown to the truth tellers and his robe to the poor, he could withstand any battle in life.
Next page