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Robert W Service - My Neighbors
Work rating: Low

To rest my fagged brain now and then,
When wearied of my proper labors,
I lay aside my lagging pen
And get to thinking on my neighbors;
For, oh, around my garret den
There`s woe and poverty a-plenty,
And life`s so interesting when
A lad is only two-and-twenty.

Now, there`s that artist gaunt and wan,
A little card his door adorning;
It reads: "Je ne suis pour personne",
A very frank and fitting warning.
I fear he`s in a sorry plight;
He starves, I think, too proud to borrow,
I hear him moaning every night:
Maybe they`ll find him dead to-morrow.
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