'They say my boy is bad,' she said to me, <br /> A tired old woman, thin and very frail. <br />'They caught him robbing railroad cars, an' he <br /> Must spend from five to seven years in jail. <br />His Pa an' I had hoped so much for him. <br /> He was so pretty as a little boy- ' <br />Her eyes with tears grew very wet an' dim- <br /> 'Now nothing that we've got can give us joy!' <br /> <br />'What is it that you own?' I questioned then. <br /> 'The house we live in,' slowly she replied, <br />'Two other houses worked an' slaved for, when <br /> The boy was but a youngster at my side, <br />Some bonds we took the time he went to war; <br /> I've spent my strength against the want of age- <br />We've always had some end to struggle for. <br /> Now shame an' ruin smear the final page. <br /> <br />'His Pa has been a steady-goin' man, <br /> Worked day an' night an' overtime as well; <br />He's lived an' dreamed an' sweated to his plan <br /> To own the house an' profit should we sell; <br />He never drank nor played much cards at night, <br /> He's been a worker since our wedding day, <br />He's lived his life to what he knows is right, <br /> An' why should son of his now go astray? <br /> <br />'I've rubbed my years away on scrubbing boards, <br /> Washed floors for women that owned less than we, <br />An' while they played the ladies an' the lords, <br /> We smiled an' dreamed of happiness to be.' <br />'And all this time where was the boy?' said I. <br /> 'Out somewhere playin'!'- Like a rifle shot <br />The thought went home- 'My God!' she gave a cry, <br /> 'We paid too big a price for what we got.'<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/too-big-a-price/
