Tristitiae Bis Repetita After Oscar Wilde Tristitiae - Poem by Jonathan ROBIN
O woe for soul self-tortured who
lacks garnered gold or space to grow,
turns to Fox News for overview,
who wood from trees may never know.
O woe for filly, foal, who fear
to face Time's grace with open mind,
who father bias insincere,
who mother prejudice unkind.
Farewell to those who chose to tread
ungroovy rut of narrow thought,
nut greed fruits grief, small mind, big head,
conspire together, truth distort.
O well for him who lives at ease
With garnered gold in wide domain,
Nor heeds the splashing of the rain,
The crashing down of forest trees.
O well for him who ne'er hath known
The travail of the hungry years,
A father grey with grief and tears,
A mother weeping all alone.
But well for him whose foot hath trod
The weary road of toil and strife,
Yet from the sorrows of his life.
Builds ladders to be nearer God.
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