For Poe's birthday, January 19, 2016, I decided to put together this poem summarizing the great macabre author's life.
I acknowledge that some sources give different details about his life, so forgive the details and let's appreciate the challenges he went through while leaving us some impressive work.
Poe fans may notice the gentle nods to his famous poem, "Annabel Lee."
I acknowledge that some sources give different details about his life, so forgive the details and let's appreciate the challenges he went through while leaving us some impressive work.
Poe fans may notice the gentle nods to his famous poem, "Annabel Lee."
An Ode to Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago
When Edgar Poe was born
On January 19th
To a life that would be forlorn.
An orphan at the age of two,
It really was quite sad
That little Poe would never know
His dear old mom or dad.
On he went through childhood,
In the Allan's home of wealth.
But he was booted from the UVA.
At least he had his health.
He went to serve the army,
And on to West Point then.
But Edgar Poe, as all men know,
Got booted once again.
The Allan family cut him off,
So with gambling debts and drink,
Edgar took a pen in hand,
And he began to think.
He first worked as an editor,
And poetry he wrote,
But his books won Edgar no acclaim ...
Or no acclaim of note.
Along the way he married
His cousin, Virginia Clemm.
Though she was only thirteen years,
Poe found her quite a gem.
After that, his writing soared,
Though as a critic he was a thug.
But he penned a many masterpiece,
Like "The Raven" and "The Gold Bug."
Alas, however, Virginia died
At a very early age.
And Poe drank more than ever,
His grieving to assuage.
At the age of forty,
Under circumstances strange,
Poe disappeared for several days,
Then appeared again, deranged.
Drunken in the gutter,
He was taken for some care.
"Lord, help my poor soul," he muttered,
For the man was in despair.
And with those words he left us,
Not a dime unto his name.
And yet he left us richer
With his writing all the same.
It was many and many a year ago
When Edgar Poe was born
On January 19th
To a life that would be forlorn.
An orphan at the age of two,
It really was quite sad
That little Poe would never know
His dear old mom or dad.
On he went through childhood,
In the Allan's home of wealth.
But he was booted from the UVA.
At least he had his health.
He went to serve the army,
And on to West Point then.
But Edgar Poe, as all men know,
Got booted once again.
The Allan family cut him off,
So with gambling debts and drink,
Edgar took a pen in hand,
And he began to think.
He first worked as an editor,
And poetry he wrote,
But his books won Edgar no acclaim ...
Or no acclaim of note.
Along the way he married
His cousin, Virginia Clemm.
Though she was only thirteen years,
Poe found her quite a gem.
After that, his writing soared,
Though as a critic he was a thug.
But he penned a many masterpiece,
Like "The Raven" and "The Gold Bug."
Alas, however, Virginia died
At a very early age.
And Poe drank more than ever,
His grieving to assuage.
At the age of forty,
Under circumstances strange,
Poe disappeared for several days,
Then appeared again, deranged.
Drunken in the gutter,
He was taken for some care.
"Lord, help my poor soul," he muttered,
For the man was in despair.
And with those words he left us,
Not a dime unto his name.
And yet he left us richer
With his writing all the same.
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