Even as I laugh now, so you will laugh then -- Those of you who are left. Men cannot laugh. or love the life they live, If blood is used to purge bad blood. Listen to women echo the cries of paunchy men, Yet, their voices echo, not they; Their hands gripping the child more tightly, They wonder when his time will come. Oh, what cries shrieking in the night -- Cries of moral right! Cries of fascist supremacy! Cries that send the thrill of war abroad! And we forget the wound that crawls, and burns, and festers in the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ARCIERI OF MICHELANGELO by WILLIAM ROSE BENET O YE JOYS! by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON STRADA'S NIGHTINGALE by VINCENT BOURNE ON THESE LABOURED POEMS OF THE DECEASED AUTHOR, MR. WILLIAM BOSWORTH by L. C. HATCHET by WILLIAM THOMAS CALLAWAY JR. |