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Poem by Stephen Crane


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The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
"Ha," he said,
"I see that none has passed here
In a long time."
Later he saw that each weed
Was a singular knife.
"Well," he mumbled at last,
"Doubtless there are other roads."



Stephen Crane


Stephen Crane's other poems:
  1. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
  2. The impact of a dollar upon the heart
  3. Once a man clambering to the housetops
  4. In heaven
  5. Mystic shadow, bending near me


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