Today is the birthday of Dylan Thomas (1914-1953), my favorite poet when I was about 20. This is far from his best poem, but I like the contrary spirit of it, and I note that it was one of his last:
LET ME ESCAPE
Let me escape,
Be free, (wind for my tree and water for my flower),
Live self for self,
And drown the gods in me,
Or crush their viper heads beneath my foot.
No space, no space, you say,
But you’ll not keep me in
Although your cage is strong.
My strength shall sap your own;
I’ll cut through your dark cloud
To see the sun myself,
Pale and decayed, an ugly growth.
(Travalanche) 