公交车上的诗请猛烈的输出阅读

“It feels like they handed me over a ticking bomb simply because they want it in a woman’s hand when it explodes. ” “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all. I’ve heard it in the chillest land, and on the strangest sea. Yet never in extremity. It asked a crumb of me. ”