Luther Allen

£2

THE END OF FALSE INNOCENCE

Oh to speak a truthful word,

To love an honest love,

To tell a thing as it occurred,

Clean though dull, clear if absurd,

Seeming and meaning like hand and glove.

Oh to act forth a sturdy hate,

To love with a love unmixed,

For both are dirtied by long debate, Clean hands do not hesitate,

Clear minds cannot be transfixed.

No! I'll plunge into my brother's plight Like a diver into a stagnant pond. I shall lose myself in my people's night, Confuse myself in my fellow's fight

And love is a hope for some day beyond.

But what do I say? I am they, they are I. Plunge indeed! I am in it deep.

They are the pain and I the cry.

I am the misery, they the sigh.

This too is love. I have been asleep.

Rick

LOST SOULS

About me I see a sea of faces—

City faces.

I wonder if behind some one impassive mask,

Insouciant without,

Lies crying some tortured soul with thoughts akin to mine—

Bitter thoughts:

Reliving brief recaptured rapture of older days-

Fragile nostalgia;

Bright splashed daydreams of loyalties and loves aheadFutile dreams;

The dull gray vacuum of immediacy

Ever present.

one

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