“The Ballad of Reading Gaol” by Oscar Wilde

Like two doomed ships that pass in storm

We had crossed each other's way:

But we made no sign, we said no word,

We had no word to say;

For we did not meet in the holy night,

But in the shameful day.

…

And all the woe that moved him so

That he gave that bitter cry,

And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats,

None knew so well as I:

For he who live more lives than one

More deaths than one must die.

…

Yet all is well; he has but passed

To Life's appointed bourne:

And alien tears will fill for him

Pity's long-broken urn,

For his mourner will be outcast men,

And outcasts always mourn.

 

Today April ends, and with it my goal of posting a poem for every day of National Poetry Month. Though it took a bit of planning to make sure I had a decent representation, it was a fun challenge to have a theme. I’d like to do it again if I can think of interesting topics. Feel free to suggest, dear readers, any sort of “top ten” or interest you’d like to see me write about <3