Like A Welcome Summer Rain,

The Past Has Been A Mint Of Blood And Sorrow. That Must Not Be True Of Tomorrow.

Life Dosent Frighten Me At All.

It Were Depression, Too. They Cut My Wages Down Once At The Foundry. They Cut My Wages Down Again. Then They Cut My Wages Out, Also The Job.

Peace We Passed Their Graves: The Dead Men There, Winners Or Losers, Did Not Care. In The Dark They Could Not See Who Had Gained The Victory.

That Justice Is A Blind Goddess Is A Thing To Which We Black Are Wise: Her Bandage Hides Two Festering Sores That Once Perhaps Were Eyes.