We Are All ALike
The meek and mild, and the timid and so tame
In cold thistles cover, oft hush in weakened shame
From hopes to fears and faith, and rounding all over again
Nary held by a hair's breadth thistle, yet by the doubters hand
Whilst dreams of freedoms joyful calm, ponder rather of level play
Scarcely fewer than feigning shadows, caught parched in yesterdays
Till now, the brawny of mind and of nerve, the courageous well of heart
They too of restless mood clutch hope, that the meek and mild dare start
For heat and toil, weary of load, the brave do also beg
The very things the thistle held, the meek and mild dread
The meek and the might, seeking both the same
Their lot in life seem given, each willing to quick exchange
As freedom comes, in fact, by strength, with its proper rest
Aside along another see, much alike by comparative test
Copyright © 2008 Brian G. Jett