sorrow

by Edna St Vincent Millay

Sorrow like a ceaseless rain
  
Beats upon my heart.

People twist and scream in pain,
--
Dawn will find them still again;

This has neither wax nor wane,

Neither stop nor start.

People dress and go to town;
  
I sit in my chair.

All my thoughts are slow and brown:

Standing up or sitting down

Little matters, or what gown
  
Or what shoes I wear.

by the National



by me

tomorrow I will keep busy
and will not think of him.
sending emails can be so serious,
paying bills always grim.