Why make it doubt — it hurts it so —

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Why make it doubt — it hurts it so — by Emily Dickinson
462

Why make it doubt — it hurts it so —
So sick — to guess —
So strong — to know —
So brave — upon its little Bed
To tell the very last They said
Unto Itself — and smile — And shake —
For that dear — distant — dangerous — Sake —
But — the Instead — the Pinching fear
That Something — it did do — or dare —
Offend the Vision — and it flee —
And They no more remember me —
Nor ever turn to tell me why —
Oh, Master, This is Misery —


Poetry by Emily Dickinson (edit list):
By letter of the alphabet: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, Y.
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