
The Cry is not
against the rich
just how they got it
fatted calves with
greedy eyes who
peruse with distaste
the poor as they
grovel for more
Love,
DESOLATE and lone All night long on the lake Where fog trails and mist creeps, The whistle of a boat Calls and cries unendingly, Like some lost child In tears and trouble Hunting the harbor's breast And the harbor's eyes. Carl Sandburg - Lost

against the rich
just how they got it
fatted calves with
greedy eyes who
peruse with distaste
the poor as they
grovel for more
6 comments:
now that's harsh reality. here, there, everywhere...
The Cry is not
against the rich
just how they got it
fatted calves with
greedy eyes who
peruse with distaste
the poor as they
grovel for more
I really admire this short piece Eaton. Technically though I think it is begging for punctuation to separate the thinking of the narrator into the 2 coinciding thoughts presented.
Eaton...It's a perfect little piece!
It is a poem to make you think.
Are all the rich like that?
Do all poor people grovel?
Is nobody happy where they are at?
I have an over active mind. Sorry.
There is an amazing amount of power in the simplicity of this piece.
Fabulous.
Yes..this planet is peppered with it! Wow..some picture..
Hey..hope you have a relaxing and safe Memorial Day weekend Eaton!
Thanks for bringing your cheer to my blog too!
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