Sylvia Plath

Students study her sadness Librarians hide away her books From clumsy, shy teenagers While she floats like a golden lotus Amidst fierce flames She doesn't even remember that winter morning When she went into her kitchen And turned on the gas – The world was cold on that day Grey people, hidden sun, black moon, Clouds were falling from the sky - Tired of writing books, While her life was a book, Abandoned book with torn pages She went into her kitchen And turned on the gas – She broke her bell jar, Shut her eyes Her face was calm, Like a golden lotus Amidst fierce flames