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Read more poems by Robert Service: Robert Service Poems at Poetry X.

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Robert Service

Only a rhymer, so I am,
          Lone in the market place;
I shrink, and no one cares a damn
          Though tears corrode my face.
The hollows of my cheeks they track,
          Symbolic of vain hope;
My hands are grimed because I lack
                    The price of soap.

Only a rhymer! How my breeks
          Let in the Winter wind;
One of my shoes obscenely leaks,
          My coat is safety pinned.
Although my neb drips bead on bead,
          No handkerchief have I;
My lips are blue, but none have heed
                    My songs to buy.

Only a rhymer,--just a chiel
          Spewed from the land of Burns,
     A wastrel and a ne'er-do-weel,
          From whom the public turns.
Alas! It is to late to mend
          The error of my ways,
So I will jingle to the end
                    Of all my days.

Added: 29 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 18 Mar 2019 7:32 PM | Viewed: 4799 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/5238/ | Viewed on 18 March 2019.
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