credo

Photo by nine koepfer on Unsplash

these bloody dead
this debt we owe,
abide with me
never let me go.

this mocking voice,
these clever folk
display their wit
in the cutting joke.

this tree that grew
these shady nooks
this dappled sunlight
these gilded brooks.

for men may come to worse than dust
when love of self means breach of trust:
a moment’s sincerity means more to me
than reams and reams of your philosophy.