Stop all the clocks, shut off the telephone

Unfortunately a few things have happened in my personal life which left all other matters secondary. Very, very secondary.
I came across this poem by W.H. Auden which sums up everything i wish i could have said, everything i wish i could say and everything i want to put to rest.



Stop all the clocks, shut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message; He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows on the white necks of the public doves
Let traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my north, my south, my east and west,
My working week, 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.

                                    - W.H. Auden

RunAroundRiot will resume as normal.