I'm Not A Teacher, But An Awakener.

I Have Been One Acquainted With The Night. I Have Walked Out In Rain - And Back In Rain. I Have Out Walked The Furthest City Light. I Have Looked Down The Saddest City Lane. I Have Passed By The Watchman On His Beat And Dropped My Eyes, Unwilling To Explain. I Have Stood Still And Stopped The Sound Of Feet. When Far Away An Interrupted Cry Came Over Houses From Another Street, But Not To Call Me Back Or Say Good-bye; And Further Still At An Unearthly Light, One Luminary Clock Against The Sky Proclaimed The Time Was Neither Wrong Nor Right. I Have Been One Acquainted With The Night.

He Says The Best Way Out Is Always Through. / And I Can Agree To That, Or In So Far / As That I Can See No Way Out But Through

The Nearest Friends Can Go With Anyone To Death, Comes So Far Short They Might As Well Not Try To Go At All.

My Sorrow, When She's Here With Me, Thinks These Dark Days Of Autumn Rain Are Beautiful As Days Can Be; She Loves The Bare, The Withered Tree; She Walks The Sodden Pasture Lane.

A Poem May Be Worked Over Once It Is In Being, But May Not Be Worried Into Being.