THE man who never had a chance, the victim of fell circumstance, who ne'er was Johnnie-on-the-spot—how sad and pitiful his lot! He had two hands, as good as those of t'other chap, who bravely rose to affluence and high renown, and was a credit to the town. He had two legs, without a flaw; two smoother legs I never saw, and had he used them wisely well, they might have made him—who can tell? He had two eyes, two ears, a nose, the usual array of toes, a dome on which to wear his hats, a liver and a set of slats, and whiskers till we couldn't rest; the whole equipment he possessed, by which the human tribes advance, and yet, he says, he had no chance. The wolf was always at his door; he had no tick at any store, his wife did washing every day, to buy the hungry children hay. He had a wishbone and a lung, a solar plexus and a tongue, he had two kidneys and a wart, and vital organs by the quart; and yet he raised the same old whine—because he hadn't any spine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CLOUDS: THE CLOUD CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES JOGGIN' ERLONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR EFFICIENCY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS TO MY FRIENDS, WHO RIDICULED A TENDER LEAVE-TAKING by MATTHEW ARNOLD FROM POOLS OF DEEPER THOUGHT by MAUDE HARDY ARNOLD VERSES TO AN INFANT by BERNARD BARTON |