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| Photo by Karl Blossfeldt |
AN OLD STORY
Strange that I did not know him then.
That friend of mine!
I did not even show him then
One friendly sign;
But cursed him for the ways he had
To make me see
My envy of the praise he had
For praising me.
I would have rid the earth of him
Once, in my pride...
I never knew the worth of him
Until he died.
That friend of mine!
I did not even show him then
One friendly sign;
But cursed him for the ways he had
To make me see
My envy of the praise he had
For praising me.
I would have rid the earth of him
Once, in my pride...
I never knew the worth of him
Until he died.
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