One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.

Epitaph On A Tyrant

W. H. Auden

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,

And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;

He knew human folly like the back of his hand,

And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;

When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,

And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

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Poetry shows us what we need. Thank you for being part of the experience.