(22 December 1869 – 6 April 1935 / Maine / United States)

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An Old Story

Strange that I did not know him then.
That friend of mine!
I did not even show him then
One friendly sign;

But cursed him for the ways he had
To make me see
My envy of the praise he had
For praising me.

I would have rid the earth of him
Once, in my pride...
I never knew the worth of him
Until he died.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: pride, friend

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