For My Contemporaries Poem by James Vincent Cunningham
For My Contemporaries
How time reverses
The proud in heart!
I now make verses
Who aimed at art.
But I sleep well.
Ambitious boys
Whose big lines swell
With spiritual noise,
Despise me not!
And be not queasy
To praise somewhat:
Verse is not easy.
But rage who will.
Time that procured me
Good sense and skill
Of madness cured me.
Monday, March 21, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: madness
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8/29/2026 1:17:07 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
