National Poetry Month: April 19th

Indian Summer by Dorothy Parker

In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!

ok woman

This poem was selected by Bridget P. (CAMS Branch)

Poetry Copyright Notice

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