Death
by Emily Dickinson, 16
My life is a f*cking open wound
Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me
The Carriage held but just Ourselves
And no conformity!
We slowly drove, he knew no haste
And I had brought along
My razor and my glasses too,
To watch our wrists bleeeeed
The Road Not Takenby Robert Frost, 14
...I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
but I'm scared to come out to my parents.
He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven
by William Butler Yeats, 13
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
For I, being young, have special dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on wet dreams.
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