I was going to write about my other thoughts of Easter break, but then I started reading ee cummings poetry. He very well might be my favorite poet (a term some would prefer to use loosely with him), but when you get beyond the feeling that he's just being pretentious and he's actually developing beautiful art and beauty, maybe he'll become one of your favorite poets as well.
And because I'm a giving kind of guy, here's one of his poems:
since feeling is first who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you; wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry --the best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter which says we are for eachother: then laugh, leaning back in my arms for life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis