Look what I found...

I was cleaning (HA!) and picked up a notebook, and this fell out. I think it's been there, undisturbed for 4 years. Awesome. I'm such a sloth.

"There they were, seemingly lifeless, made only of black and white, but out of them, out of their own being, came love and pity and pain and wonder and all the othr vague abstractions that make out ephemeral lives dangerous, great, and bearable."

--Dylan Thomas, on words.

We had to study him in 7th form and I think his was the first poetry which really spoke to me. Around that time, my stepdad was getting sick and we thought it was Motor-neuron and that he had about 2 years - so when we studied "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night", I was all "D-Thom, you ma boiii and I fells ya, hard."

This is it:

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Especially the last stanza. Wowza.