Silly Boys

I wonder at the silly boys who play at being Greek, At being those whom Homer praised, I wonder what they seek. A painful death? Or just acclaim for being brave and bold? Or hollow thrills from bringing fear to others weak and old? I pity them. I pity them. They do not fear the death they court, Because they never live, Because they grasp at dust and straw And never learn to give, Because for them to love is just To own and rape and steal, Because for them the joys of love Can never quite be real. I pity them. I pity them. I look inside and find in me a bit of ancient Greek, A bit of what sad Homer praised, A bit of what they seek, But I can hope that I have grown beyond that silly boy, And learned to give without regret and live my life with joy.