The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot is one of my favorite poems of all time. We read it in high school, and it has always stuck to me. I came across it again today. Still pretty much love it. It so well encapsulates, well, a lot.
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
You should read the whole thing. In fact, it's right here, if you are so inclined.
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