I like a look of agony,
Because I know it's true;
Men do not sham convulsion,
Nor simulate a throe.
The eyes glaze once, and that is death.
Impossible to feign
The beads upon the forehead
By homely anguish strung.
Real
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: death, true, impossible, anguish, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Real poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Best Poems of Emily Elizabeth Dickinson