They say Edgar Allan Poe Had it Bad
And in some respects he did:
orphaned as a kid, and then let down
by his rich philistine foster dad,
and then there’s the living hell
of living with a poetic soul
in a decidedly unpoetic world.
But it’s just as true to say that
the man who lived “The Raven”
was extraordinarily blessed as well–
and probably more so than me or you:
despite what the hypocritical haters say
(because they know neither talent nor truth),
despite greedy publishers, and mediocre readers,
and his own inability to hold his drink,
Fate gifted Poe with the perfect wife:
cherubic, feminine, devoted and loving
and unlike most “enlightened” victims today,
Virginia married a great poet who Loved her
before the world could make her its whore.
And if you’re still not convinced
(because you’re a brainwashed, unnatural,
PC bore), I’ll leave you with some stanzas
she wrote to her “Eddy” (and lived to the fullest)
before Death whispered “Nevermore”:
“Ever with thee I wish to roam—
Dearest my life is thine.
Give me a cottage for my home
And a rich old cypress vine,
Removed from the world with its sin and care
And the tattling of many tongues.
Love alone shall guide when we are there—
Love shall heal my weakened lungs;
And Oh, the tranquil hours we’ll spend,
Never wishing that others may see!
Perfect ease we’ll enjoy, without thinking to lend
Ourselves to the world and its glee—
Ever peaceful and blissful we’ll be.”
