Longfellow tried,
Frost too,
Poe failed,
Eliot's through.
The greatest poets,
wrote the greatest pieces,
but the same thought,
and their mind ceases.
They couldn't do it,
but had to try,
they worked their words,
their quills still dry.
They stared at the figure
cursing through the night
how someone so gorgeous
choked their ability to write.
Her beauty so vast
that cripples all men
unsurmountable, undescribable,
unwriteable by pen.
05-16-2003
You don't make clear here who the person is the writers are trying to write about..You make the writers sound like failures and I don't understand that. Please explain-thanks