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The Intern

This book delves into the challenges and insights gained by an intern navigating the complexities of a corporate environment. more

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Jess C. Scott

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“It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me- Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we- Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea.”

LoveBeautifulLost Love
Author:Edgar Allen Poe
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“You're coming home again. what does that mean? Can there be anyone here who still needs you, who would still want to count you as his friend? You're home, you've bought sweet wine to drink with supper, and staring out the window bit by bit You come to see that you're the one who's guilty: the only one. that's fine. thank god for that. or maybe one should say, "thanks for small favors" It's fine that there is no one else to blame, It's fine that you are free of all connections, It's fine that in this world there is no one who feels obliged to love you to distraction. It's fine that no one ever took your arm and saw you to the door on a dark evening, It's fine to walk, alone, in this vast world toward home from the tumultuous railroad station It's fine to catch yourself, while rushing home, mouthing a phrase that's something less than candid; You're suddenly aware that your own soul is very slow to take in what has happened.”

Solitude
Book:Selected Poems, 1968-1996
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