And this man. What does he now seem like, to you?
Like a child
who has wandered into a forest
Playing with an imaginary
playmate
And suddenly discovers he
is only a child
Lost in a forest, wanting
to go home.
Compassion may be
already a clue
Towards finding your
own way out of the
forest
But even if I find
my way out of the
forest
I shall be left with the
inconsolable memory
Of the treasure I went into the
forest to find
And never found, and which
was not there
And perhaps is not anywhere?
But if not anywhere,
Why do I feel guilty at not
having
found it?
T.S. Eliot
The Cocktail Party
A Comedy
Act II
1950
Harcourt, Brace©
Riita Paivalainen
Ida Pimentoff
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