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Household tasks are easier and quicker when they are done by somebody else.

quote by James Thorpe
Added by Lucian Velea
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Did You Pass or Fail?

Why is it easier to be arrogant?
Why is it easier to be cruel?
Why is it easier to be evil?
Why is it easier to hurt?
Why is it easier to an asshole?
Why is it easier to victimize?
Why is it easier to abuse?
Why is it easier to use?
Why is it easier to be greedy?
Why is it easier to be selfish?
Why is it easier to be self centered?
Why is it easier to steal?
Why is it easier to manipulate?
Why is it easier to lie?
My thoughts is it is a test to all man kind
Did you pass or fail?

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
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Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,--
Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?
Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!
Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October
Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean
Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pre.

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.

PART THE FIRST

I

In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas,
Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward,
Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number.
Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant,
Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gates
Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields
Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward
Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended
There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village.
Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock,
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.
Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting
Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway.
There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset
Lighted the village street and gilded the vanes on the chimneys,
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles
Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Quick to Dump Their Junk

Some seem ready to jump into a garbage dump.
Quick to dump their junk,
And then start running.
Quicker to abuse their minds.
Quicker to find the time to whine.
And quick to say who's nuts...
And who ain't crazy.

It seems easier to walk away from people raging.
Easier to say who should be who they are.
Easier to start a fight.
Easier to say who's not living right.
And easier to be the one who sleeps at night.

Quick and easy it seems not to worry.
It appears some live lives free of mental strife.
Quick and easy it seems for them not to hurry.
When a life they choose to live,
Is not disguised by lies.

It seems some can take their lumps and not be moaning.
Or groan from Sunrise 'til that Sun goes down.
Whether they keep a faith.
Or pray every second of each day.
They don't walk around,
With a face to frown.

Why is it...
Some seem ready to jump into a garbage dump?
And why is it...
Some are quick to dump their junk,
And run?

Why are they...
Quicker to abuse their minds.
And why so quick are they to whine?
And quick they are to say who's nuts...
But they're not crazy.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Hymn To The Penates

Yet one Song more! one high and solemn strain
Ere PAEAN! on thy temple's ruined wall
I hang the silent harp: there may its strings,
When the rude tempest shakes the aged pile,
Make melancholy music. One Song more!
PENATES! hear me! for to you I hymn
The votive lay. Whether, as sages deem,
Ye dwell in the inmost Heaven, the COUNSELLORS
Of JOVE; or if, SUPREME OF DEITIES,
All things are yours, and in your holy train
JOVE proudly ranks, and JUNO, white arm'd Queen.

And wisest of Immortals, aweful Maid
ATHENIAN PALLAS. Venerable Powers!
Hearken your hymn of praise! tho' from your rites
Estranged, and exiled from your altars long,
I have not ceased to love you, HOUSEHOLD GODS!
In many a long and melancholy hour
Of solitude and sorrow, has my heart
With earnest longings prayed to rest at length
Beside your hallowed hearth--for PEACE is there!

Yes I have loved you long. I call on you
Yourselves to witness with what holy joy,
Shunning the polished mob of human kind,
I have retired to watch your lonely fires
And commune with myself. Delightful hours
That gave mysterious pleasure, made me know
All the recesses of my wayward heart,
Taught me to cherish with devoutest care
Its strange unworldly feelings, taught me too
The best of lessons--to respect myself!

Nor have I ever ceas'd to reverence you
DOMESTIC DEITIES! from the first dawn
Of reason, thro' the adventurous paths of youth
Even to this better day, when on mine ear
The uproar of contending nations sounds,
But like the passing wind--and wakes no pulse
To tumult. When a child--(for still I love
To dwell with fondness on my childish years,
Even as that Persian favorite would retire
From the court's dangerous pageantry and pomp,
To gaze upon his shepherd garb, and weep,
Rememb'ring humble happiness.) When first
A little one, I left my father's home,
I can remember the first grief I felt,
And the first painful smile that cloathed my front
With feelings not its own: sadly at night
I sat me down beside a stranger's hearth;

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Southey
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It Was Easier To Hurt Him

(jerry ragavoy / bert russell)
I should have told him
That I needed him
When I had the chance
And now hes left me
And its all over
Goodbye romance
I should have told him then
Over and over again
That I love him
But, it was easier to hurt him, ooh
It was easier to hurt him, ooh
It was easier to hurt him
Thats what I thought
Was being so smart
The way I cheated him
And mistreated him
How could I forget?
I was so sure that he
Would always trust in me
Oh, that Id take a bet, no, no, no
Hed never say goodbye
But here all alone am i
He is gone now, ahh, cause
It was easier to hurt him
What could I do?
(it was) easier to hurt him
I should have known better
Thats what I thought
Was being so smart, oh, oh
It was easier to hurt him
I need him so bad
(it was) easier to hurt him
What did I do?
(it was) easier to hurt him
I should have known better
(it was) easier to hurt him
I need him so bad

song performed by Dusty Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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See Yourself

Its easier to tell a lie than it is to tell the truth
Its easier to kill a fly than it is to turn it loose
Its easier to criticize somebody else
Than to see yourself
Its easier to give a sigh and be like all the rest
Who stand around and crucify you while you do your best
Its easier to see the books upon the shelf
Than to see yourself
Its easier to hurt someone and make them cry
Than it is to dry their eyes
I got tired of fooling around with other peoples lies
Rather Id find someone thats true
Its easier to say you wont than it is to feel you can
Its easier to drag your feet than it is to be a man
Its easier to look at someone eless wealth
Than to see yourself

song performed by George Harrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ray Of Light

Verse:
Zephyr in the sky at night I wonder
Do my tears of mourning sink beneath the sun
She's got herself a universe gone quickly
For the call of thunder threatens everyone

Chorus:

And I feel like I just got home
And I feel
And I feel like I just got home
And I feel

Faster than the speeding light she's flying
Trying to remember where it all began
She's got herself a little piece of heaven
Waiting for the time when Earth shall be as one

(chorus)

Quicker than a ray of light
Quicker than a ray of light
Quicker than a ray of light

(verse)

And I feel
Quicker than a ray of light
Then gone for
Someone else shall be there
Through the endless years

She's got herself a universe
She's got herself a universe
She's got herself a universe

And I feel
And I feel
And I feel like I just got home
And I feel

Quicker than a ray of light she's flying
Quicker than a ray of light I'm flying

song performed by Madonna from Music
Added by Lucian Velea
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Easier To Run

Its easier to run
Replacing this pain with something long
Its so much easier to run
Replace all this pain here all alone
Something has been taken from deep inside of me
The secret Ive been locked away where one could never see
Look so different, never show,
They never go away
Like moving pictures in my head
? ?
[mikes part]
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame and the pain I would
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame and the blame
Its easier to run replacing this pain with something long
Its so much easier to run
Replace all this pain here all alone
Some things I remember but thought the soul bypassed
Bringing back these memories I wish I didnt have
Sometimes I think Im letting go and never looking back
I never really thought so, I never realized?
[mikes part]
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame and the pain I would
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame and the blame
Just watch it in the sun
All of the helplessness as ive
Pretending I dont feel misplaced
Its so much simpler to change
Its easier to run replacing this pain with something long
Its so much easier to run
Replace all this pain here all alone
Its easier to run
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made

[...] Read more

song performed by Linkin Park
Added by Lucian Velea
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O-o-h Child

(1970) stan vincent
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
Someday well get it toghether and well get it undone
Someday when the world is much brighter
Someday well walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Someday when the world is much lighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
Someday well get it toghether and well get it undone
Someday when the world is much brighter
Someday well walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Someday when the world is much lighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
Someday well get it toghether and well get it undone
Someday when the world is much brighter
Someday well walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Someday when the world is much lighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
Right now right now

song performed by Nina Simone
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Aint Got The Right

(locorriere/sawyer/haffkine)
You aint got the right to tell me Im not lonely
You dont understand what Ive been through
He had every right to do the wrong that he done to me
But that dont make it easier to lose
No that dont make it easier to lose
I woke up monday morning
With the feeling he was gone
And I turned to face an empty place and I realized
That I didnt smell no coffee and all his pretty clothes were gone
I cried the first of the many tears youll see me crying from now on
And you aint got the right to tell me Im not lonely
You dont understand what Ive been through
He had every right to do the wrong that he done to me
But that dont make it easier to lose
No that dont make it easier to lose
I know his list of lovers was just as long as mine
But the sometime friend of a natural woman is to settle down
But the one time ways of that man
Have done busted up my mind
Now hes out the door, hes got one more
On his list than I got on mine
And you aint got the right to tell me Im not lonely
You dont understand what Ive been through
He had every right to do the wrong that he done to me
But that dont make it easier to lose
No that dont make it easier to lose
Well, its gonna be a long time before I pass this way again
I been dragged through school and Ive learned the rules
And it seems to me
That a manll love to fool ya
And he wont always fool you nice
Yes he had his turn, I guess Ive learned
And no he aint gonna fool me twice
And you still aint got the right to tell me Im not lonely
You dont understand what Ive been through
He had every right to do the wrong that he done to me
But that dont make it easier to lose
No that dont make it easier to lose

song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
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Follow The Format

make a big scene
make this glass house my coffin
you missed the big picture
well its the words that youre coughing out on your sleeve
so forge my sins here in song
well i'm telling you now what youve known all along
and its tired, so true, more subtle than you
theres a lull in the stereo
its calling for you (calling for you)
its calling for you
well i'm a slave to my vices (its true)
theyve all been renamed as a crutch
so drag my name and my face through the mud
flattery can flatter me (flattery can flatter me)
showing just how vicious you could be
do what you came here to do (do what you came here to do)
trigger finger gets you pointed in the right direction
my new found discretion
its not a lie if you believe it
its no mistake if its always repeated
its not a lie if you believe it
its no mistake if its always repeated
shall we call it quits or just wait? (its not a lie if you believe it)
even, even if my last name rhymes with your rescue of hear say
do not say you know (its no mistake if its repeated)
call me out
its not a lie (its such a lie)
but I dont need to hear it from you
so whats another word for (i dont need to hear it from you)
whats another word for (dont need to hear it from you)
whats another word for (i dont need to hear it from you)
whats another word for (dont need to hear it from you)
it gets easier with doses of time (easier with doses of time)
easier with doses of time (easier with doses of time)
easier with doses of time (easier with doses of time)
easier with doses of time (easier with doses of time)
Show us just how vicious you could be

song performed by Taking Back Sunday
Added by Lucian Velea
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Difficulties with women

It’s difficult to dress a woman

According to her wish,

It’s easier to undress a woman

Against her wish.

It’s difficult to argue with a woman

Because she is always right,

It’s easier to agree with her

Without any fight.

It’s difficult to find the words

A woman would like to hear,

It’s easier to keep silent

If you want to be her dear.

It’s difficult to guess her mood

So that to be understood,

It’s easier to tell her a funny story

And once more to say: sorry.

It’s difficult to explain

How much you miss her

It’s easier to give her a kiss

For her to remember you and miss.

[...] Read more

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Somme-France 1916, From A 15 Year Olds Perspective

They said welcome to the warzone kid,
Now run along and don't get killed,
War was easier said then done,
With shrapnel flying,
And your best mates dying
War was easier said then done,
We're disadvantaged, The Boche have Hill 60, that very important mound,
I wish i was at home, safe and sound,
War was easier said then done,
The trenches are dirty, cold and wet,
I can't take off my boots, in mud they're set,
War was easier said then done,
You never know if your next breath will be your last,
Use your legs, run and run fast,
War was easier said then done,
I've only been here for about one week,
I'm still alive, so i guess this is a winning streak?
War was easier said then done,
My bayonet is bloody and red,
I'm glad it's him and not me that is dead
War was easier said then done...

poem by Harrison Bishop
Added by Poetry Lover
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Courtship of Miles Standish, The

I
MILES STANDISH

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.

Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Courtship of Miles Standish

I
MILES STANDISH

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.

Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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She Left On A Monday

She left on a Monday
She's a siren down the road
In your herringbone overcoat
That you don't expect to get back

And it's an ordinary sky
Today's like any other day
When all of the aeroplanes
Write her name in the clouds

And nothing's wrong
But it's already Sunday
And you know just how Sunday
Was the day that she would come around?

Go to her foolish man
What's the use of having pride if you don't have her?
She'll endure all she can
But you could make this easier on her

It's all like sinking
You're trying to stay afloat
Like a wind blown paper boat
Over uncharted sea

There's no question why
You're driving to kill some time
Racing the power lines
Back into town

Go to her foolish man
What's the use of having pride if you don't have her?
She'll endure all she can
But you could make this easier on her

Go to her foolish man
What's the use of having pride if you don't have her?
She'll endure all she can
But you could make this easier on her
Make this easier on her
Make this easier on her
Make this easier on her

song performed by Bic Runga from Beautiful Collision
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rear View Mirror

Uh Yeah
A Keys
Rear View
Uh Oh Uh Oh
Uh Oh Uh Oh
AK 2000
Oh Uh Oh
It happened quickly
All of a sudden
I was caught up with another man
Who wanted
To be closer
But now
I know better and I'm
Hoping
We Can
Start Again
I know that there's nothing for me what I have done
So
Let me show how deep my love goes
For you
Cos you'll really live and learn and that's how you find out who is true
And I found out that you were the one
I was deceived
Baby please forgive me
Don't know what we had to change
It's easier for us to get further
Don't look in the rear view mirror
Now that we are
Back again together
I want to show you
How I'm made from heaven
I'll do my best to shower
You with a bit of 'tention
Don't ever have to mention
This song if it ends
I know that there's nothing for me what I have done
So
Let me show how deep my love goes
For you
Cuz you'll really live and learn and that's how you find out who is true
And I found out that you were the one
I was deceived
Baby please forgive me
Don't know what we had to change
It's easier for us to get further
Don't look in the rear view mirror
I can't change what I had done before
But now I know that you love me so much more
Than anything that had ever come my way

[...] Read more

song performed by Alicia Keys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Idea Track

Dear Hugh Miller
Ive thought it through for a while but it doesnt get any easier
And three months on in this bad design wont make it feel any easier
Your grave, its your grave
Dear Hugh Miller
Its four months now from when we started and nothing feels much easier.
I sit and stare in a cork tiled room and it doesnt get much easier.
Your grave, its your grave
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (you dont try)
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (dont try)
Dear Hugh Miller,
its four months now from when we started and nothing feels much easier.
I sit and stare in a cork tiled room and it doesnt get much easier.
Your grave, its your grave
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (you dont try)
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (dont try)
Your grave, its your grave
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (you dont try)
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (dont try)
I dont care if I dont have an idea track, its an idea track, its an idea
I dont care if I dont have an idea track, its an idea track, its an idea
Your grave, its your grave.

song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet- Which Is Easier?

Which is easier, to shave off your face-hair
Or to maintain a long and flowing beard?
Which is easier, to cycle like a hare,
Or to trudge your way uphill with the herd?

Which is easier, to float the logs downstream,
Or to tusk them one by one to the mill?
Which is easier, to shoot lion in dream,
Or to fight it in its den and to kil1?

Which is easier, to break a whole mountain,
Or to make it crumble into small stones?
Which is easier, to set a lit fountain,
Or to produce a grave of human bones?
Unnatural things are quite easy to do,
Natural ones sometimes, impossible too.

poem by John Celes
Added by Poetry Lover
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