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Edgar Allan Poe- Essay DraftEdgar Allan Poe was born in Boston, Massachusetts on January 19, 1809. When he was young, Poe lived with his parents, who were traveling actors. His parents’ names were David and Elizabeth, otherwise known as Eliza, Poe. When Poe was with them, he had two siblings. Their names were William Henry Leonard Poe, who was two years older than Edgar, and then there was Rosalie, the only girl of three children. Since Poe’s parents were actors, Poe’s family was constantly on the go. Although the family had small income, they still were able to manage. By mid-October, 1811, Elizabeth was unable to perform and the family lost their only source of income. Elizabeth Poe died on December 8, 1811 and her three children had to be split and taken in by other families in order to survive. “Some say Elizabeth could have died from either pneumonia or tuberculosis (McArthur).”
After Poe’s mother died, Mrs. Allan took him in and raised him, all this happened when Poe was
What Takes Place in this House of Fear Why on earth should I even try,
when you just leave me wanting to cry.
I give up! Okay!
Go! Just stay away!
You say that I'm mean and don’t care,
but I'm not mean, it’s very rare.
You say I destroy and deceive,
What have I done but relieve?
You wonder why I hate it here?
I look at you in constant fear!
I want out of here!
but you won’t let me anywhere near.
You keep me away from others,
so they can’t see what uncovers,
in this house of fear,
GET ME OUT OF HERE!
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More