I have a funny story (well, it seems funny now

) about "how has Keats changed my life". When we read "ode to a grecian urn", I found it...full of deep thoughts and beauty. I loved it, so I went on discussing it with my boyfriend. But while I was explaining it to him, he understood that I was talking about us, instead about the poem for it's own -I had no "metaphoric" meaning. When I reached the lines where Keats describes the lovers painted on the urn, that are forever happy immortalised in the moments before the kiss and could dream forever about that instant, he said "oh, so you prefer the time when you was dreaming about me than now that you got me", or something like that. He understood that I was regretting our relationship! The following day he left me
Thank you Keats!
But in fact, Keats made me definitely fall in love with poetry