What would you do with my life?
What would I with yours?
Would you take mine to the knife
And feed it to the birds?
No, you’d lead it to a safe place,
Give it food, drink, book and blanket,
Say with solid, solemn face,
“What an honor,” and you’d thank it.
Does my life matter more or less
When in different hands?
Would yours be worse or better blessed
On other kingdom’s lands?
May I beg a favor from your wealth
Of thoughtful, caring fame?
Will you be kinder to yourself?
I’ll try to do the same.