This is the poem prompt I've mentioned in the last few posts (I promised I'd get it done!). The poem is titled Gary Gray, by Edgar Lee Masters.

I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me—
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire—
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.

First, I would like to say that poetry used to terrify me. And then I took AP Literature. And guess what? Poetry still terrifies me, but good lord it's a beautiful thing, and this is most definitely one of those examples of beauty. I absolutely adore the sea imagery of the ship and its sail, and one of my favorite literary devices is personification, with sorrow knocking and ambition calling.

But, on to meaning. The speaker was afraid to live his life, for fear of sorrow and failure. He realizes now (at the end of his life, or from the grave) there are two options: live an empty life, staying safe in the harbor but longing for more; or live a full life, letting destiny take the helm, and taking the good with the bad. A ship is safe in the harbor, but that's not what ships are for.

16. Consequences

"You chose her," Cora had told him once, almost too long ago to remember, "and the consequences of that decision."

His response had been defensive, he recalled, because, of course, he hadn't chosen her. That was preposterous. He'd chosen himself. It just so happened that choosing himself involved choosing her. If that was what it took for him to get to Storybrooke and handle his unfinished business with a certain slimy Crocodile, so be it.

It had been a retrospective existence, but he was content with his life on an indefinite pause as he worked out his revenge.

Then he had met her; blonde hair, green eyes, and a personality fiery enough and strong enough to rival that of any pirate. And in thinking about her, he had forgotten to think about revenge. He had begun to move from his little pool of memory, to ask for more from life than the guilt and anger and darkness that had plagued him. Revenge had been his remedy, his cure, his triumph.

But he no longer wanted any sort of triumph for his own sake.

He wanted it for the silly little town and its infuriating inhabitants, from the dwarves to the fairies, who would know what he had just done soon enough.

He wanted it for Mary Margaret, who was shaking her head in disbelief, her hand covering her mouth, and for David, who wrapped his arms around his wife in a futile attempt to provide some comfort.

He wanted it for Henry, who was staring at him, eyes wide, blinking, petrified.

Hell, he even wanted it for Regina, who was bent over him, hands surrounded by magic, trying to figure out something, anything, that she could do.

But mostly, he wanted it for the woman whom he had thrown himself in front of as the shot of red light flew toward her. She was kneeling next to him now, cradling his head, choking out words he could no longer clearly hear.

He wanted it for the sake of the life he had chosen, consequences be damned.

Hook's life of meaninglessness was his life of revenge; he was stuck there, until he met Emma. And though she brought sorrow and failure and most definitely madness to his life, she also brought meaning. Did I do it justice? Hopefully - I've never responded to a poem like this before.

Also, after last night...can I get some opinions on the Sorcerer's Apprentice? I mean, he trapped the author who was abusing his privilege (good?), but he also did the curse for Snow and Charming but did he really have to? (bad?) and he's the one who spilled the beans to Lily (good/bad?) I'm really not sure what to think of him.