Friday, November 16, 2012

The Builder (Poem)




I saw them tearing a building down,
a group of men in a busy town.
With a hefty blow and a lusty yell,
They swung with zest,
and the sidewall fell.

I asked the foremen,
"are these men skilled?
The kind you would hire,
if you had to build?"

He looked at me, and laughed,
"no, indeed!
Unskilled labor is all I need.

Why, they can wreck in a day or two,
What has taken builders years to do."

I asked myself, as I went my way,
which of these roles have I tried to play?

Am I a builder with rule and square,
measuring and constructing with skill
and care?

Or am I the wrecker, who runs 
the town,
content with the business 
of tearing down?





Writer: Anonymous


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