Worlds Apart

A poem of hope and pessimism

I am the oppressed one

Bearing my cross alone

Rail not, child of mine

But look thither, the stars are thine

I am the silent one

Shall I my woes intone?

Fret not, son of light

The stars will shine by night

You are the weeping one

Oughtn't you your troubles groan

Speak thee, mother of mine

And watch thy woes decline

Nay. Nay, child of day

Such woes lose not a ray

Hush. Hush, wise child and watch

The stars and feel their touch

I see not the stars ye speak

For this is day so meek

There's the sun warm and bright

And yet you see the flaws of night

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