1 When you had played with life a space <br />2 And made it drink and lust and sing, <br />3 You flung it back into God's face <br />4 And thought you did a noble thing. <br />5 "Lo, I have lived and loved," you said, <br />6 "And sung to fools too dull to hear me. <br />7 Now for a cool and grassy bed <br />8 With violets in blossom near me." <br /> <br />9 Well, rest is good for weary feet, <br />10 Although they ran for no great prize; <br />11 And violets are very sweet, <br />12 Although their roots are in your eyes. <br />13 But hark to what the earthworms say <br />14 Who share with you your muddy haven: <br />15 "The fight was on -- you ran away. <br />16 You are a coward and a craven." <br /> <br />17 "The rug is ruined where you bled; <br />18 It was a dirty way to die! <br />19 To put a bullet through your head <br />20 And make a silly woman cry! <br />21 You could not vex the merry stars <br />22 Nor make them heed you, dead or living. <br />23 Not all your puny anger mars <br />24 God's irresistible forgiving. <br /> <br />25 "Yes, God forgives and men forget, <br />26 And you're forgiven and forgotten. <br />27 You may be gaily sinning yet <br />28 And quick and fresh instead of rotten. <br />29 And when you think of love and fame <br />30 And all that might have come to pass, <br />31 Then don't you feel a little shame? <br />32 And don't you think you were an ass?"<br /><br />Joyce Kilmer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-young-poet-who-killed-himself/
