No but - that part in 'To Autumn', where Keats writes - "Where art the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too." - it always ends up making me tear up a bit, I won't lie. It's so simple, yet so beautiful. It's as if he's not just speaking to Autumn - he's actually speaking to me. And to every single person who has ever felt like they're not good enough. It's an assurance, a gentle reminder that even when you feel like someone else has far more to offer than you do, you're needed. And that you're good enough. In your own way.














