|Don't kick the kicker, let him be;
Some other things are worse than he:
The chintz bug, or the rattlesnake,
The drought, the flood, the awful quake
Of heaving continents that show
The molten fury pent below.
Don't kick the kicker, let him tear
His own and other people's hair.
It doesn't hurt them very much,
And as for him it offers such
Relief and comfort just to rave,
That he who stops him is a knave.
Don't kick the kicker, let him fuss,
lie's kicking for the rest of us.
We haven't time to fume and fret
Because it's hot, cold, dry or wet.
We haven't time to howl and whine
At every mercantile combine.
And who of us would waste his wits
Exposing stenchy hypocrites !
We need our muscle and our brain
For raising other kinds of cane.
However fate and fortune mix
Let's let the kickers make our kicks.
Don't kick the kicker, let him kick
It's wiser and more politic.
For kickers might be doing worse
Than kicking at the Universe.
They might be forcing other folks
'To laugh at vapid puns and jokes.
They might be moving Heaven and earth
To bring some foolery to birth;
Might go and swell the crowded ranks
Of wild vagarians and cranks,
Whose heads re-echo with the sound
Of wheels that rattle round and round.
So, lest the harmless kicker might
Invent some black that should be white;
Some under that should be above;
Some hatred just as good as love;
Some health with which to slay the sick___
Its better just to let him kick.
__Harry Edward Mills.
Harry Edward Mills
(Fort Scott: Sunflower Press. 1901)