Exquisite, a worthy re-read and re-blog, Merci!
The poem that started it all was an imperfect poem. That is literally what this not yet a poet called it. My dreams an imperfect poem. Doing poorly in school seemed to be my thing. In just about every subject this was the case, languages with its poems was no exception. Every poem, every single one of them was according to my teachers interpreted wrong. Never apparently having the ability to grasp the rules and concepts that goes along with this form of human expression.
However, inspired by Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven by W. B. Yeats from my heart there came a poem. Thinking of all the probable flaws it had to entail the name was given. Just as my blog at the time was called an imperfect blog. Another blogger re-posted it and it gained if I remember correctly around three hundred likes. This encouraged me to…
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