Author James Oppenheim You cannot exile me:Wherever you send me, my dear old self goes along,Carrying on his back the bag in which all the ages since creation have thrown their winnings,So that he staggers under riches …How then can you exile me? Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments