Split II
And now I see, as if with blinding sight, what this poem really means. It must be about schizophrenia.
When I quote Dylan, last bard of Wales, these days, everyone thinks I mean Bob Dylan.
But death shall have no dominion.
An old classmate of mine died yesterday. At such times, we remember everything.
When I quote Dylan, last bard of Wales, these days, everyone thinks I mean Bob Dylan.
But death shall have no dominion.
An old classmate of mine died yesterday. At such times, we remember everything.
Labels: Death, Dylan Thomas, Poetry, Schizophrenia
etched with acid at 8:54:00 am
1 Comments:
Rage, rage against the dying of the light... Doesn't this poem send shivers down your spine?
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