Good morning, Molly! :-) I guess you wish to express something about
yourself in a poetic way. Wonderful. [?][?][?][?][?][?]

Have you ever considered to use your own base feelings for your original
words? I have an idea that this could make you stronger and I would like to
invite you to give it try. [?][?][?]

2015-03-13 0:37 GMT+01:00 Molly <[email protected]>:

> I AM the mother and the daughter
>
>
> On Wednesday, March 11, 2015 at 7:50:32 PM UTC-4, Molly wrote:
>>
>> In retrospect, my poetry project was a harmless sideline that kept me
>> benevolently out of her
>> <http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/01/style/bringing-a-daughter-back-from-the-brink-with-poems.html?rref=collection%2Fcolumn%2Fmodern-love&_r=0>
>> way as she struggled not just to see the horizon but to march bravely
>> toward it.
>>
>> On Wednesday, March 11, 2015 at 4:00:49 AM UTC-4, Allan Heretic wrote:
>>>
>>> Poetry
>>> Path way to soul
>>> Inner being
>>>
>>> Words
>>> Expressing thoughts
>>> Path onward
>>>
>>> Time
>>> Ever present
>>> Marker
>>>
>>>
>>> تجنب. القتل والاغتصاب واستعباد الآخرين
>>> Avoid; murder, rape and enslavement of others
>>>
>>> -----Original Message-----
>>> From: Hope Sunshine <[email protected]>
>>> To: [email protected]
>>> Sent: Wed, 11 Mar 2015 8:08 AM
>>> Subject: Mind's Eye Re: Poem4
>>>
>>> Beautiful and sad at the same time. Thanks for sharing it here with us
>>> Molly on this grey morning.
>>>
>>> Am Mittwoch, 11. März 2015 00:41:44 UTC+1 schrieb Molly:
>>>>
>>>> Can I see another's woe,
>>>> And not be in sorrow too?
>>>> Can I see another's grief,
>>>> And not seek for kind relief?
>>>>
>>>> Can I see a falling tear,
>>>> And not feel my sorrow's share?
>>>> Can a father see his child
>>>> Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?
>>>>
>>>> Can a mother sit and hear
>>>> An infant groan, an infant fear?
>>>> No, no! never can it be!
>>>> Never, never can it be!
>>>> And can He who smiles on all
>>>> Hear the wren with sorrows small,
>>>> Hear the small bird's grief and care,
>>>> Hear the woes that infants bear --
>>>>
>>>> And not sit beside the next,
>>>> Pouring pity in their breast,
>>>> And not sit the cradle near,
>>>> Weeping tear on infant's tear?
>>>>
>>>> And not sit both night and day,
>>>> Wiping all our tears away?
>>>> Oh no! never can it be!
>>>> Never, never can it be!
>>>> He doth give his joy to all:
>>>> He becomes an infant small,
>>>> He becomes a man of woe,
>>>> He doth feel the sorrow too.
>>>>
>>>> Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
>>>> And thy Maker is not by:
>>>> Think not thou canst weep a tear,
>>>> And thy Maker is not near.
>>>>
>>>> Oh He gives to us his joy,
>>>> That our grief He may destroy:
>>>> Till our grief is fled an gone
>>>> He doth sit by us and moan.
>>>>
>>>> - William Blake
>>>>
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