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Time does not bring relief; you all have lied / Who told me time would ease me of my pain! / I miss him in the weeping of the rain; / I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
They came to tell your faults to me
Boys don't want to be princes.
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Stephon's kiss was lost in jest, Robin's lost in play, But the kiss in Colin's eyes Haunts me night and day.
She told me to lie still / Let my thoughts take a deep breath ...
Cut the bindings off of books found at a used book store. Find poems in the pages by the process of obliteration. Put pages in the mail and send them all around the world. Lather, rinse, repeat.
is a written in 1932 by . Although the origin of the poem was disputed until later in her life, Mary Frye's authorship was confirmed in 1998 after research by , a newspaper columnist.