so many tests coming up! and i am so naughty to be using the net now....finally got my hp liaoz *beams* getting more used to it. haiz, have to chiong this "women in art" thing for lit... *bangs wall*i like the poem that we did for unseen that day. Shall type it here ya?

Conquerors
By sundown we came to a hidden village
Where all the air was still
And no sound met our tired ears, save
For the sorry drip of rain from blackened trees
And the melancholy song of swinging gates.
Then through a broken window pane some of us saw
A dead bird in a rusting cage, still
Pressing his thin tattered breast against the bars,
His beak wide open. And as we hurried through the weed-grown street,
A gaunt dog started up some dark place
And shambled off on legs as thin as sticks
Into the wood, to die at least in peace.
No-one had told us victory was like this;
No one amongst us would have eaten bread
Before he'd filled the mouth of the grey child
That sprawled, stiff as a stone, before the shattered door.
There was not one who did not think of home.

Henry Treece