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Title: The Sulkers
Author: Edgar A. Guest [ More Titles by Guest]
The world's too busy now to pause To listen to a whiner's cause; It has no time to stop and pet The sulker in a peevish fret, Who wails he'll neither work nor play Because things haven't gone his way. The world keeps plodding right along And gives its favors right or wrong To all who have the grit to work Regardless of the fool or shirk. The world says this to every man: "Go out and do the best you can." The world's too busy to implore The beaten one to try once more; 'Twill help him if he wants to rise, And boost him if he bravely tries, And shows determination grim; But it won't stop to baby him. The world is occupied with men Who fall but quickly rise again; But those who whine because they're hit And step aside to sulk a bit Are doomed some day to wake and find The world has left them far behind.
[The end] Edgar A. Guest's poem: Sulkers ________________________________________________
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