Life Is a Feast, They Say
Life is a feast, they say:
Yet millions of people are born hungry and die hungry—
And, dying, wonder why they ever had to live.
Life is a feast, they say:
Yet millions of women pass their years
Without seeing a country road or a field of clover.
Life is a feast, they say:
Yet millions of children, having glutted their eyes before a bright-colored Christmas window,
Go home, heart-hungry, to a dark corner of a black wall, by Tenement Alley.
Life is a feast, they say.
Yet millions of people are born hungry and die hungry—
And, dying, wonder why they ever had to live.
Life is a feast, they say:
Yet millions of women pass their years
Without seeing a country road or a field of clover.
Life is a feast, they say:
Yet millions of children, having glutted their eyes before a bright-colored Christmas window,
Go home, heart-hungry, to a dark corner of a black wall, by Tenement Alley.
Life is a feast, they say.
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