Someone once wrote that the eyes are a window to the soul. Poetry, too, is a window to the soul. Poe hid his torment within the lines of “Annabelle Lee” and “the Raven,” while Browning viewed the world within the stanzas of “The Seraphim” and other poems. I also chose to hide behind the lines of poetry. Perhaps my words will never be leagued with the great poets of the past – but, to those who read them and can relate to what I have to say, they will live in infamy.