Share 'My Waist Land'

The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot starts out APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. I thought of this poem while thinking about writing this blog. I think a teacher made me memorize this poem and I still remember the beginning. But to the point. I weigh 360 pounds. That is my waist land. And it lea…