Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,"Epitaph on a Tyrant"
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.
W. H. Auden
And people like you, they make me feel so old inside
ReplyDeleteI am staring down the half-century mark...
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