'I have not the fine audacity of men,
who have mastered the pen,
or the purse.
The complexes of many slaves are in my verse.
When I straightened my shoulders to look at the world boldly,
I see talent coldly.
Damning me to stooped attrition.
Mine was a beggars mission.
To dreams of beauty I should have been born blind.'
Patrick Kavanagh, The Irony Of It.
  • Joined:
    Dec 31, 2011 10:37AM
wellington1963 wellington1963 Jan 02, 2012 12:19PM
@Emmiie Happy New Year to you too! :D 
            Thank you for your help, I'll be sure to do so if I come into any trouble! :-)
View all conversations

Featured work.

The God of an Empty Stage

Social data: 17 reads. 0 votes. 0 comments.



Other Works by wellington1963.


14 0 0

I suppose you could call this a commentary on the nature of social awkwardness and the joy to be had in...

To Dance Among Divines

To Dance Among Divines

11 0 0

A piece about how humanity has arguably come to equal the deities of old. Any feedback appreciated!

The Light and The Dark

The Light and The Dark

58 0 0

A short story I wrote about the nature of bullying. All criticism welcome!

The Recruiting Sergeant

The Recruiting Sergeant

23 0 0

A short story about a man who zealously sought to leave his country village only to discover in the heat...