Living
Is bliss, then, such abyss
Living
Is bliss, then, such abyss
I must not put my foot amiss
For fear I spoil my shoe?
I'd rather suit my foot
Than save my boot,
For yet to buy another pair
Is possible
At any fair.
But bliss is sold just once;
The patent lost
None buy it any more.
Cite this poem
MLA
Dickinson, Emily. “Is bliss, then, such abyss.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/dickinson/332/.
Chicago
Dickinson, Emily. “Is bliss, then, such abyss.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/dickinson/332/.
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