If (By J.K.Spanton) With Apologies To Rudyard Kipling Poem by Andrew Wright

If you can wake just at the break
Of day, when things are dismal,
Crawl out of bed with buzzing head,
In darkness most abysmal.

Pull on your duds with bangs and thuds,
Nor ever strain your diction,
Produce no moans when blood and bones
Will not respond to friction.

If you've a bite when things are tight,
And split it with your mucker,
It's you that gains though for your pains
He plays you for a sucker.

If you can mask these thoughts that task,
Your powers of self suppression,
When fools talk rot and blood runs hot,
- - - Or freezes in depression,

If you can gaze on Summer days,
While birds pour out their song,
Nor feel that He who made them free,
Has kept you chained up too long.

Or harder still if you can kill,
These pangs that sometimes rise,
When faces dear shine close and near
Thro - the mist before your eyes.

If you can smile, though all the while,
This waiting game you've hated,
You may be sure my friend that you're
For better things created.

And be at rest though on your breast,
They'll pin no decoration
Perhaps it's through the likes of you,
Some straggler found salvation.