In The Country

This life is sweetest; in this wood
I hear no children cry for food;
I see no woman, white with care;
No man, with muscled wasting here.

No doubt it is a selfish thing
To fly from human suffering;
No doubt he is a selfish man,
Who shuns poor creatures, sad and wan.

But 'tis a wretched life to face
Hunger in almost every place;
Cursed with a hand that's empty, when
The heart is full to help all men.

Can I admire the statue great,
When living men starve at its feet!
Can I admire the park's green tree,
A roof for homeless misery!

by William Henry Davies

Comments (3)

A beautiful poem...i drown in its brilliantly penned sad atmosphere...nice work!
i rely love this p.s thanks for the comment u left on my poem loves and kisses and huges jose campos < :)
OMG Livi, if only you knew how many times I thought similar to this. My skin is fragile, but my mental strength will protect me with a vengeance. The scared little girl is now a grown woman, and I have resolute power to stand firm in who I am. Once I was afraid, once I was beaten and couldn't fight back, once I was abandoned and disowned, once I was so very alone. Now I an neither of these, and they cannot hurt me anymore. They ignored me and picked on the body, but the body wasn't me, even tho I live in the body they beat, abandoned, disowned and left to myown resources to fend for myself. But I am stronger now, and ignoring only gets you the same, so heed the words of this poem, ignore us no more. 'Heaven hath no rage than good turned to evil, or hell a fury than a woman scorned.' ignoring us is to scorn us, and we don't get angry, we get even.: P Thank you for sharing this wonderful, enlightening poem of what it means to be us. Hugs, Barbara