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 lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ‘round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—
Featured Shared Story
This poem has always had a special place in my heart. I get to connect with it; my childhood is different from others, so most things in my life that I got to love I most definitely have come...
Alone
By
Edgar Allan Poe
more Edgar Allan Poe
Advertisement
by Linda
Dark Poems
Sad Poems
Hate Poems
Short Sad Poems
Famous Sad Love Poems
Famous Death Poems
I get it. Trust me, I know what it feels like to be an outcast. But I can guarantee you, nothing is wrong with you. I don't know why people feel this way, but nobody...NOBODY! should be laughing at you!