(no subject)

[devin_chain]

Which poem are you? The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot God, you're indecisive. You're not that great, but you don't know if you want to accept that. You appreciate beauty and observe things others may not, but you're also hopelessly impaled on your own foolish romanticism. Go you.

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Comments

[deadlychameleon.livejournal.com]

you're also hopelessly impaled on your own foolish romanticism.

*g* I like that. Impaled on romanticism. Like being pierced by a candy cane someone had sucked into a point, sticky sweet and bloody. Yes, I'm in a weird mood today, why do you ask?

-Silverkyst

[devin-chain.livejournal.com]

But that's a right wicked image. May I steal it? Seriously. That would make an excellent bit of found poetry. Not so much 'found' as 'pilfered,' really.

*hugs*

[deadlychameleon.livejournal.com]

You can use it if when someone asks you tell them where you got it (or note it when you post). Good writers borrow. Great writers steal outright. It's inevitable. I am pointedly not thinking about how much chocolate I've eaten today. Gah. PMS is fun, yes?

-Silverkyst