Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Loss
She mourned
her
unborn
children
both,
the planned
and unplanned
no one could
console her.
Especially me.
she mourned
her
lost son
cancer reaches
beyond age
no one could
console her.
Especially me.
always
a tear in
their smile
and
an
indescribable,
unappeasable
ache
stamped
across their
wrinkled
forehead
no one can
console them…
don't even try.
Especially me.
poem
by
Tim Labbe
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black