Letras

DICKINSON:
They shut me up in Prose—
As when a little Girl
They put me in the Closet—
Because they liked me “still”—
Still! Could themself have peeped— And seen my Brain- go round—
They might as wise have lodged a Bird For Treason—in the Pound—
Himself has but to will
And easy as a Star
Abolish his Captivity—
And laugh—No more have I—
HIGGINSON:
The most gifted woman,
Is like a single plant
Trying to sustain itself
Where the soil is not yet fitted for its
reception,
And it is only in some favored nook That it manages to exist at all.
Written by: Eric Nathan, Mark Campbell
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