I believe that an event in my life that would make a good poem, or story, would be the time that I up and moved everything I owned from Maryland to Georgia. Not knowing a single soul in Georgia and leaving everything I knew behind me, including my family and friends. The hardest part has been being 12 hours away from my family, who I was always fortunate enough to be close with. I saw my family as often as I could and now with a 12 hour drive separating us that has been the hardest thing to cope with. I know people move all the time, but I also at the time was only 21 years old. There's not many people that I personally have come across that have made that decision. I am glad I did it and that is the reason I have stayed, I have met so many wonderful people and have met the love of my life. What more could I ask for?! :)
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut- iful than these heroic happy dead This is an example of irony, because it says "what could be more beautiful than these heroic happy dead", and to me that sounds like its generalizing all that are dead are happy. Followed by the next line saying " who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter", how could anyone rushing to their own slaughter be a happy death, heroic yes. Happy, no. No one wants to die, but I guess it is assumed to be for good reason.
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