J. Alfred Prufrock, (New Pretense, Same Story)
Change
comes quickly
winding
down
a dark dusty trail
but
alone with your thoughts its clear that
where you depart is where you will arrive and
everything is the same but
you
"The twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blue,
The lamp fills with a pale green glow
The trees of the avenue."
James Joyce
forget about it?
why?
alas, if all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work...
isnt it the same after all?
comes quickly
winding
down
a dark dusty trail
but
alone with your thoughts its clear that
where you depart is where you will arrive and
everything is the same but
you
"The twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blue,
The lamp fills with a pale green glow
The trees of the avenue."
James Joyce
forget about it?
why?
alas, if all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work...
isnt it the same after all?