E. E. Cummings Assignment

it may not always be so; and i say

it may not always be so;and i say
that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch
another's,and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart,as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know,or such
great writhing words as,uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be,i say if this should be-
you of my heart,send me a little word;
that i may go unto him,and take his hands,
saying,Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.




life may not always play nicely;the wind whispered
soon the walls will close in,surrounding you laughing,bitterly
mocking, you unable to see what which way to run
for help,the one you once believed was love;holds the lever that is now controlling your end
echoing you’ll scream,and sob
i love you i love you,help help help,
The wind will grin evilly at you demise;

when life refuses to play fair, fair by its own limits-
surround your dear heart,make it cold ice;
hard granite stone,become cold and unfeeling,
laugh at doom,Fear not one thing.
then kiss the hand that beats,catch him off guard
and crush him with the walls, whispered the wind.