Everyone seems to be doing silent poetry reading today in knitting-blogland. I thought I would share this one.
By Edwin Arlington Robinson
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace;
In fine we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
We read this the first day of Honors English in 9th grade. It was our teacher's first day ever teaching. It was our first big scary day in High School as wee leetle freshmen. We remembered and referred to this poem over and over again for the next 4 years.
In fact, I still do. Every time I think someone has it all together, and a life that should be wonderful, and I don't understand their attitudes or behaviors, I think of this poem.
Sometimes you need a reminder that just because you don't see someone's problems, it doesn't mean they aren't there. That's what this poem does for me.