Poetry of Kansas


Some beings live from day to day
      Without a thought;
Whose solemn moments pass away
      And soon forgot.
Each day as but an idle dream
      Of little worth;
And to the dormant mind 'twould seem
      His life a curse.
It is a fruitless life indeed;
      Ah, yes, 'tis worse
Than fruitless, and of little need
      E'er to rehearse.
Not only do they bear no fruit
      Of value great,
Nor deeds of any good repute
      Would fain create,
But worse by far than fruitless toil,
      They sink at last
Into despair, a worthless spoil,
      Forgotten past.
Ah, sad to see a wasted form
      All ghastly lay,
A victim to life's every storm,
      A helpless prey.
All damned here by his worthless self,
      Ignoble slave;
A victim of his hand bereft,
      His trust did wave.

__James A. DeMoss


Kansas Zephyrs
James A. DeMoss
(Thayer, Kansas: ___. 1892)
Pages 35-36

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July 8, 2003 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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