My name is really Melanie Daves, but I like going by Author Unknown. I like this identity because I feel that I am nothing to this world but my poetry, and of what inspires me to write. more »
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author unknown Poems
My Three Lovers
I cannot remember Yesterday, He went away. I asked him what the trouble was, He would not say;
I wonder if the trees can hear me When I scream aloud, Or if the dandelion screams, When I pick him out.
Here We Are Together
In this world of bitter ends, Long lost letter to a friend: This is my entry.
Nothing But Love
You may think, at times, that the world is fatal That all just dies, and drifts, and slowly fades away That these lives we slave for now, Mean nothing to the end.
On The Concept Of Time
I don't know if time passes or not, Or if it all comes together with spontaneity. And though we think we are living- Sequential lives,
This One Goes Out To The Bird I Thought ...
I see your picture everyday. I memorize your face. I try to make the picture real, as the sadness fades away.
Untitled for the Hopeless
All my dreams are gone, They took off in the wind. Just like all the songs no one finished.
Flat Out Tired of this Broken World
Another beginning, another day Close my eyes until the world turns- Blank. Redeeming only what others cannot Save. Fall
Sometimes life is utterly revolting and tiring; With its boring obligations- Life is strife. I wish that I could take these moments
The Promising Future of a Spinster
It's frightening. I feel better, but I'm longing for a kiss. One simple kiss
Comments about author unknown
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
My Three Lovers
I cannot remember Yesterday,
He went away.
I asked him what the trouble was,
He would not say;
Just looked at me with a cool kind of conviction,
Wishing things were different,
As he slowly walked away.
Oh! How today bores me!
I can read his mind!
Certainly don't have yesterday's
He told me straightforwardly
Oh! He loved me so!
But I told him that it was
Time to go.
Now, Future has a sacred face,
He sneaks and sneaks around.
When I wish to never see his trace,
He lingers for a mile.
He whispers sad tales of ...