Read the poem.The lights dim and quiet descends,Hushed whispers are barely heardAs silence surroundsUntil the movie ends.
Read the poem.Throat is dry;weather’s hot.I buy a canand pop the top.I lift the canto trembling lips,And find reliefWith one cool sip.
Read the poem.School looms large, and I feel smallI pause until the door swings wideI hoist my pack, step insideAdjust my cuffs, smooth my hairAnd wonder what I’m doing here.
Read this excerpt from "The Bells” by Edgar Allan Poe.For every sound that floatsFrom the rust within their throatsIs a groan.
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