All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Poets of winters past, for whome she did
Appear; perhaps you can call her dear friend
But me she hath forsake, mine eyes she bid
Be blind, until the time that i can mend.
A scale she bid me fix; "balance is key,
To fix the scale, for you must find your lot."
And now that she hath quit the blame's on me
The tool for which I search has been forgot.
The endless search for the agent has done
Me in, it has eluded me too long,
I fear that I may ne'er espy the sun
Again, nor hear a blue jay sing his song.
For in my search I have not seen what you
Have set in front of me, dear friend, dear shrew.