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Edgar Allan Poe
19:32 Feb 27 2008
Times Read: 1,100
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then–in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life–was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
THE END
Poe, entitles this poem, "Alone" I would call it just, "Being Orginial"
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COMMENTS
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Sinora
20:09 Feb 27 2008
*nods*
sockpuppet
22:12 Feb 27 2008
Poe is trying to explain what it is like to be an outsider.
He never has and will never fit into society.
Dragonrouge
14:09 Mar 02 2008
The true deep experiences in life can not be communicated to anyone.Any language is insufficient for that.
Finally we all are alone...
though this poem is a paradox... we are all alone... even if we can understand the other one`s loneliness...
or maybe not?