This poem was one of 33 added in the 1916 edition.
I SPENT my money trying to elect you Mayor, A. D. Blood. I lavished my admiration upon you, You were to my mind the almost perfect man. You devoured my personality, And the idealism of my youth, And the strength of a high-souled fealty. And all my hopes for the world, And all my beliefs in Truth, Were smelted up in the blinding heat Of my devotion to you, And molded into your image. And then when I found what you were: That your soul was small And your words were false As your blue-white porcelain teeth, And your cuffs of celluloid, I hated the love I had for you, I hated myself, I hated you For my wasted soul, and wasted youth. And I say to all, beware of ideals, Beware of giving your love away To any man alive.
There are currently no comments for this epitaph. Be the first to add a comment!
We reserve the right to remove off-topic, inappropriate or markedly offensive comments. Although your e-mail address is required in case we need to contact you about your comment, we will not make your e-mail address visible to the public, share it with third parties, or use it to send unsolicited messages.
