of all the blessings which to man <br />kind progress doth impart <br />one stands supreme i mean the an <br />imal without a heart. <br /> <br />Huge this collective pseudobeast <br />(sans either pain or joy) <br />does nothing except preexist <br />its hoi in its polloi <br /> <br />and if sometimes he's prodded forth <br />to exercise her vote <br />(or made by threats of somethings worth <br />than death to change their coat <br /> <br />-which something as you'll never guess <br />in fifty thousand years <br />equals the quote and unquote loss <br />of liberty my dears- <br /> <br />or even is compelled to fight <br />itself from tame to teem) <br />still doth our hero contemplate <br />in raptures of undream <br /> <br />that strictly(and how)scienti <br />fic land of supernod <br />where freedom is compulsory <br />and only man is god. <br /> <br />Without a heart the animal <br />is very very kind <br />so kind it wouldn't like a soul <br />and couldn't use a mind<br /><br />Edward Estlin Cummings<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/of-all-the-blessings-which-to-man/
