His name is Robert, Robert Frost


To start the world of old

We had one age of gold

Not labored out of mines,

And some say there are signs,

The second such has come,

The true Millennium,

The final golden glow

To end it. And if so

(and science ought to know)

We may well raise our heads

From weeding garden beds

And annotating books

To watch this end de luxe.


One of my favorite writers of poetry is the grand, the great mister Robert Frost. The except above is by far one of my most favorite poems. Its called “Its almost the year two thousand.” In the poem it talks about the lack of wealth in making our country grand for the incoming year, that we as a people had. or at lest thats what i take from it. Now i think that this poem reflects American society as a whole. As a society…

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