Sorrow

Sorrow like a ceaseless rain
Beats upon my heart.
People twist and scream in pain,β€”
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 Edna St. Vincent Millay

See more in : https://americanliterature.com/author/edna-st-vincent-millay/poem/sorrow

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