You said it, Charlie Brown.
Though all we get is grief,
They only knock us down
To topple our belief
That one day”one day soon”
The meek will all inherit
And Lucy change her tune.
I don’t think they could bear it
The way we do, to rise
Knowing we’ll fall again,
To think it somehow wise
To lose, to fail . . . to grin,
And in our darkest mood
To still allow for Good.
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
Clapping Trees and Other Biological Wonders
Two books on plant evolution, both alternately nutty and brilliant, were recently published. The subtitle of Robert…
Winners of the Second Annual First Things Poetry Prize
We are pleased to announce the winners of the second annual First Things Poetry Prize. T. O.…
The Death of the Oxford Don
In this episode, Jaspreet Singh Boparai joins Rusty Reno on The Editor’s Desk to talk about his…
