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Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
I came across this poem recently in my college English class. It was love at first read. This poem beautifully illustrates the heartache of love lost. Those who have loved have felt this way. When suffering heartache time does not matter. We feel like a part of us has died and that we shall never recover. Even though it is a sad poem, I think its wonderful because so many can connect with it. When you read the poem out loud, it sounds so beautiful. The way it tastes when you say each word is lovely.