I hate this grinding poverty—
To toil, and pinch, and borrow,
And be for ever haunted by
The spectre of to-morrow.
It breaks the strong heart of a man,
It crushes out his spirit—
Do what he will, do what he can,
However high his merit!

I hate the praise that Want has got
From preacher and from poet,
The cant of those who know it not
To blind the men who know it.
The greatest curse since man had birth,
An everlasting terror:
The cause of half the crime on earth,
The cause of half the error.

by Henry Lawson

Comments (4)

we can't wash it off. we can't brush it off. what are we to do? the glitter is all over you. very well..you know how to write good poems..really appreciate your work and this poem too..10/10
sally is a bit original but this poem has something that makes you take note and is another sweet, breif peice well done
this poem makes me think of pink and cute.. i like this piece krista
This made me smile. Great poem!