by E. E. Cummings
I shall imagine life
is not worth dying, if
(and when) roses complain
their beauties are in vain
but though mankind persuades
itself that every weed's
a rose, roses (you feel
certain) will only smile
I shall imagine life
is not worth dying, if
(and when) roses complain
their beauties are in vain
but though mankind persuades
itself that every weed's
a rose, roses (you feel
certain) will only smile