Journalism Poem by Morris Rosenfeld
Journalism
Written today, and read today,
And stale the news tomorrow!--
Upon the sands I build... I _play!_
I play, and weep in sorrow:
'Ah God, dear God! to find cessation
From this soul-crushing occupation!
If but one year ere Thou dost call me Thither,
Lord, at this blighting task let me not wither.'
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: sorrow,today
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7/28/2026 7:44:43 AM # rel_20260727T173023Z_37e450e
