In spite of everything by E. E. Cummings

in spite of everything
which breathes and moves,since Doom
(with white longest hands
neatening each crease)
will smooth entirely our minds

-before leaving my room
i turn,and(stooping
through the morning)kiss
this pillow,dear
where our heads lived and were.

by E. E. Cummings

Other poems by 'E. E. Cummings'

supposing i dreamed this

blac..

listen..

flotsam and jetsam

hate blows a bubble of despair into

when god lets my body be

if I should sleep with a lady called death

voices to voices,lip to lip..

enter no

my father moved through dooms of love

Search Poems
e.g. love, marriage, kids

Popular poems this week

In Silence We Left

The Lost Dances of Cranes

The Author to her Book

Summer Evening

The Lesson

A chilly Peace infests the Grass

To Mæcenas

You Fit Into Me

mr youse needn't be so spry..

Oh, honey of an hour