.......this poem causes me to wonder if he was an only child...
it is a poem of childhood wonder and mystery
~And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still: ~
This is a true masterpiece...! How beautiful...! I always have this particular poem in my mind, very present in my daily struggles with life and reality, when the lonely hours fleeting to me seem eternity - and I meditate the pointlessness of things... I am full of admiration for Poe's genius and for the inmense beauty of these lines, as they speak to my heart - they express my own feelings and perceptions, and my own personality. It is as if I was reading about myself... I love it! I truly love it...
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
I know the world that Poe was trapped in.
Unlike Poe I found a way out of the darkness of futility.
I saw the light that put my demons to flight,
Poe seems to have been content with the dark world of emotion.