"Think not, because no man sees,
Such things will remain unseen."
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When I graduated this spring, my grandma gave me a book of poetry. One Hundred and One Famous Poems. She read to me some of the poems she likes, but after that, I only found time to become familiar with the cover.
Tonight I pulled the book out. I only planned to glance through it, considering the time. But I re-realized the brilliance behind the worded-art, and my glancing through it became a delving.
People are lovely. Words are lovely. And I now have many scraps of paper marking poems that I find intriguing and lovely.
And to think that I used to get a horrible taste in my mouth whenever I tasted poetry.
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