This is pretty much my first draft of this poem, so I think I need a lot of feedback. On Saturday , , and I went to the Brontë Parsonage Museum in Haworth, Yorkshire and it was simply amazing. We walked around the house where they lived and grew up, and stood in the room where Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall were written. In that same room there was some information which told us that after the rest of the household had gone to bed, Charlotte, Emily and Anne would sit together and discuss what they had written. The three of them would often walk around the table together in thought, and I just had to write this poem after reading the saddest memoir of their servant who claimed that after the deaths of Emily and Anne 'her heart ached to hear Charlotte walking, walking on alone'. I have two sisters of myself, and I couldn't imagine losing one of them, nevermind losing two of them within a year of each other. Anyway, that's enough from me. Please let me know what you think of this piece and my appalling attempt at a loose rhyme scheme. (c)
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