With A Flower

I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too --
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.

-Emily Dickinson

I remember this poem from when I was in the fourth grade. I was in love with all of Emily Dickinson's work. Somehow, I think that I still am. Everything she writes is easy, but it holds so much meaning. The simplicity and honesty of her work makes me believe how she felt. When I read some peoms that use tons of crazy metaphors I find that the true meaning of how that person felt becomes lost. I suppose I like her work so much because I write similarly to her. The first kind of poetry I knew was of Emily Dickinson and Robert Frost, and I think that it has taught me to say simply what I am feeling and how to write my heart on paper.