This is my letter to the world That never wrote to me

I wonder if it hurts to live, And if they have to try, And whether, could they choose between, They would not rather die.

I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in Heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot, As if a chart were given.

The truth I do not dare to know I muffle with a jest.

I dwell in possibilities... a fairer house than prose.

Common sense is almost as omniscient as God.

Beauty is just a light switch away...'click!' Beauty is not caused. It is.