A PESSIMIST.

A PESSIMIST.
453.7

Wot’s the use of fireftles,
Skootin’ round at night
With their foolish twinkle?
They don’t give no light.

Wot’s the use o’ ravin’
‘Bout the blushin’ rose?
You can’t get their petals,
Made up into clo’s
.
Wot’s the use of daisies,
Dewey like an’ wet,
Erl the other flowers,
Sence they can’t be et?

Wot’s the use o’ moonshine,
Fallin ‘on the bay?
Twon’t bring in no money-
Not tell Jedgment Day.

Wot’s the use o’ squawkin’
Like them nolsy birds?
An’ sense we’re about it
Wot’s the use o’ words?

Ef those things have value,
I ain’t found their worth;
Ain’t no use in nothin’
On this bloomin’erth.
-Clarise W. Riley