They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load And they seem not to break though once they are bowed So low for long they never right themselves.

They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load
And they seem not to break though once they are bowed
So low for long they never right themselves.
Robert Frost

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Thinking is not to agree or disagree. Thats voting.
- Robert Frost
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A poem begins with a lump in the throat.
- Robert Frost

They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load And they seem not to break though once they are bowed So low for long they never right themselves. Robert Frost

They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load
And they seem not to break though once they are bowed
So low for long they never right themselves.
Robert Frost