In honor of National Poetry Day, I would like to share a personal favorite of mine by William Blake.
Yes, I’m aware that some might see me in a sinister light. But it rhymes nicely and it’s the only one I know by heart.
As a teenager, I was a bummer to hang out with sometimes.
The Poison Tree
I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I waterd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night.
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.
And into my garden stole,
When the night had veild the pole;
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.