This day, I think, will be a common day, Devoid of venture, risk or thrill or show; Eight working hours, plodding in a row Like lagging sheep, whose herder I must be -- And You, who made me, know I hate such days! I can face danger or the press of haste, Cruel shock or sudden uproar and alarm, Or I can laugh and play the merry clown, Or act a part to mask some desperate need -- But something limps in me when days are dull. And so I ask Your help this common day. Help me keep sweet when there is none to see; Help me be patient though there be no praise, And brave without the spotlight or applause, And honest, in the secret, unseen acts. Dear Friend, whom I can feel but cannot see, Help me today. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TRASH MEN by CHARLES BUKOWSKI PENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ITALIAN PICTURES: JULY IN VALLOMBROSA by MINA LOY THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDS by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DIPPOLD THE OPTICIAN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |