Edna St. Vincent Millay — Sorrow

Sorrow like a ceaseless rain        &nbspBeats upon my heart. People twist and scream in pain,— Dawn will find them still again; This has neither wax nor wane,        &nbspNeither stop nor start. People dress and go to town;        &nbspI sit in my chair. All my thoughts are slow and brown: Standing up or sitting down Little matters, or what gown        &nbspOr what shoes I wear.