When I Was an Editor
So maudlin, with pity and pathos I stood
If someone who erred got the lashes;
If hanged, I'd weep over the ashes.
With vocal dispraise such injustice I viewed
But somehow as soon as the war-craze ensued,
When slaughter en masse was the popular mood
And corpses all over the planet were strewed,
With dumb indecision I stood.
For there was the problem of friendships and food
- One's sympathies nobody cashes.
To dampen my conscience-clashes
The cracks in my honor I artfully glued
With unctuous lies that I hastily brewed
- And cheered just as loud as I could.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (When I Was an Editor by Stephan Stephansson )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Sand, Joey Jones
- Variations, Kewayne Wadley
- T, Vinaya Joseph
- माँ गंगा Maan Ganga (Hindi), S.D. TIWARI
- Blessings, Dr. Prabir Acharjee Nayan
- A Happy Poet, REALLY?, Sandra Feldman
- Each Day I Live a Life and Die!, Monk E. Biz
- If Compassion were in Fashion! (Nudity), Monk E. Biz
- Green Flag, Nassy Fesharaki
- My Forest is not Deep, But it is Green, Monk E. Biz