connecting people.
If you were wondering, circumlocution means saying something simple in many many words, and I thought that was what my post was doing. =)
At the request of Amanda, poetry! And mel: I WROTE IT MYSELF THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!
Another tear
another day,
Another fear
a shade of grey.
Another day
will pass you by,
Another way
to say goodbye.
I wanted to write a love poem, but I am uninspired.
so in its place I shall post a poem by another well known poet instead. This one is about national loyalty and patriotism! gogo PAP! =) everyone must read the last few lines. They are so powerful! zommmm.
At the request of Amanda, poetry! And mel: I WROTE IT MYSELF THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!
Another tear
another day,
Another fear
a shade of grey.
Another day
will pass you by,
Another way
to say goodbye.
----------------------------------------------------
=DI wanted to write a love poem, but I am uninspired.
so in its place I shall post a poem by another well known poet instead. This one is about national loyalty and patriotism! gogo PAP! =) everyone must read the last few lines. They are so powerful! zommmm.
Breathes there the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said
"This is my own, my native land"?
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned
As homeward his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there be, go mark him well:
For him no minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power and pelf,
The wretch concentred all in self;
Living, shall forfeit fair renown
And doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonoured and unsung.
Who never to himself hath said
"This is my own, my native land"?
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned
As homeward his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there be, go mark him well:
For him no minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power and pelf,
The wretch concentred all in self;
Living, shall forfeit fair renown
And doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonoured and unsung.
-Sir Walter Scott
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