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Title: The Complacent Slacker
Author: Edgar A. Guest [
More Titles by Guest]
When he was just a lad in school,
He used to sit around and fool
And watch the clock and say:
"I can't see that I'll ever need
This stuff the teacher makes me read,
I'll work no more to-day.
And anyhow it's almost June
And school days will be over soon."
One time we played a baseball game,
And when a chance for stealing came,
On second base he stood,
And when we asked him why, he said:
"What was the use, they're far ahead,
One run would do no good.
The game is almost over now,
We couldn't win it anyhow."
The same old slacker still is he,
With men at war on land and sea,
And our lads plunging in it;
He spreads afar his old excuse.
"I'd like to help, but what's the use,
The Allied troops will win it.
There's nothing now to make us fret, there,
They'll have it won before we get there."
The worst of slackers is the man
Who will not help whene'er he can,
But plays the idle rover,
And tells to all beset with doubt
There's naught to be alarmed about,
The storm will soon be over.
Let no such dangerous person lead us,
To-day in France they sadly need us.
[The end]
Edgar A. Guest's poem: Complacent Slacker
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