codex002489-060v
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Status: Needs Review
There are people to pity, where ever we look
The rich as well as the poor
For sorrow stays not in the laborers cot
She visits both laird and boor.
But the people I pity the most in life
Are the poor little nerveless souls -
Half finished at birth - & sent unto earth
Unfit to be fighting for goals.
They are third rate clerks, with no chance
for a rise
And they get all they earn - no doubt -
They are lacking in will
And tread the same mill
Thro' the long years, in and out.
They are wanting in character, force & brain
Mere parts, in a great concern.
But they ve hearts that can ache
and silently break.
While the wheels of the treadmill turn.
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