Emily Dickinson
A recluse nicknamed ‘nun of Amherst
Wrote rhymes about death, faith and curse
‘Springfield Republican’ cleaved her mind
Where thoughts are joined you will find
‘Hope is the thing with feathers’
Where sweetest sound of gale is heard
She left an indelible mark on most
Who felt her depth and got engrossed
In life she didn’t get much recognition
Her poems surpassed every mission
‘I asked no other thing’
Gave a reason for being
In spite of unfavourable reviews and scepticism
She never let go of life’s schism
She died at a very tender age
And the world still suffers from her passage
Copyright © Tahera Mannan | Year Posted 2011
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