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Monday, April 28, 2008, 9:03 AM
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead. Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods; For nothing now can ever come to any good. ;A poem Ms. Chng showed us during Literature class. Well, not all the lines apply. But still, its a beautiful poem. Makes me feel all sentimental and tingly. Well, a public domain isn't exactly the right place for all sorts of words. Then again, how many people can guess or know what I really say. &As Charisse would have put it, read what is not written. In this case, hear what is not spoken. {: |