Daily Emily Dickinson

poems | source | simple

· · ·

                XII.

REAL.

I like a look of agony,
Because I know it 's true;
Men do not sham convulsion,
Nor simulate a throe.

The eyes glaze once, and that is death.
Impossible to feign
The beads upon the forehead
By homely anguish strung.


            
Wednesday, June 18, 2025
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