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Sympathy

Robert Service

My Muse is simple,--yet it's nice
To think you don't need to think twice
                    On words I write.
I reckon I've a common touch
And if you say I cuss too much
                    I answer: 'Quite!'

I envy not the poet's lot;
He has something I haven't got,
                    Alas, I know.
But I have something maybe he
Would envy just a mite in me,--
                    I'm rather low.

For I am cast of common clay,
And from a ditch I fought my way,
                    And that is why
The while the poet scans the skies,
My gaze is grimly gutterwise,
                    Earthy am I.

And yet I have a gift, perhaps
Denied to proud poetic chaps
                    Who scoff at me;
I know the hearts of humble folk;
I too have bowed beneath the yoke:
So let my verse for them evoke
                    Your sympathy.

Added: 29 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 20 Jul 2018 12:19 AM | Viewed: 5655 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/5387/ | Viewed on 19 July 2018.
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