Eighteen; and Life had shewn him all she hath
Of hate and bitterness and carking care;
Brimming the chalice with the dread despair
Which, at eighteen, oped jaded arms to Death.
His years began midst red amaze of war;
His lips had suckled hatred of Versailles;
His heart was early schooled to check the sigh
When bread was scant, and he a child of four.
Good times returned again when he was ten?
Aye, grant he thrived for three swift winging years,
But then, new thrilling to youth’s hopes and fears,
Depression, by the grace of “Christian” men!
A box-car shrined his lone Gethsemane,
Dead of starvation in a land of corn!
Better for him that he were never born?
Better for us the millstone and the sea!
For he was murdered and the guilt is ours
We were the vintners of the bitter brew
Which unto that last sad surrender drew
His weary heart in those despairing hours.
We did not want him, so we cast him out!
No scapegoats seek, while ruthless records tell,
“Born in the years we leased the earth to Hell,
Starved in the year we blessed our gods for drought!”
(Burnett A. Ward)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Death & Dying Poems, War & Peace Poems, Fear Poems, Hell Poems, Hatred PoemsBased on Keywords: millstone, shrined, shewn, oped, schooled, versailles, suckled, carking, thrived, leased, vintners