Of my city the worst that men will ever say is this:
You took little children away from the sun and the dew,
And the glimmers that played in the grass under the great sky,
And the reckless rain; you put them between walls
To work, broken and smothered, for bread and wages,
To eat dust in their throats and die empty-hearted
For a little handful of pay on a few Saturday nights.
They Will Say
Carl Sandburg
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Poem topics: away, children, city, rain, sky, sun, work, grass, great, worst, broken, bread, dust, saturday, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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