PERFECTION, OF A KIND, WAS WHAT HE WAS AFTER.
AND THE POETRY HE INVENTED WAS EASY TO UNDERSTAND;
HE KNEW HUMAN FOLLY LIKE THE BACK OF HIS HAND,
AND WAS GREATLY INTERESTED IN ARMIES AND FLEETS;
WHEN HE LAUGHED, RESPECTABLE SENATORS BURST WITH LAUGHTER,
AND WHEN HE CRIED, THE LITTLE CHILDREN DIED IN THE STREETS.
- epitaph on a tyrant, w.h. auden
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Poetry❝ a soul first, lover second. ❞ // musings. will update continuously.
