Poems ✍️
  11.06.2025
  11

Author: Emily Dickinson

Mine enemy is growing old

MINE enemy is growing old,
I have at last revenge.
The palate of the hate departs;
If any would avenge,

Let him be quick, the viand flits,
It is a faded meat.
Anger as soon as fed is dead;
'T is starving makes it fat.


  revenge Aging anger emptiness

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