The Builder (Poem)
I saw them tearing a building down,
a group of men in a busy town.
With a hefty blow and a lusty yell,
They swung with zest,
and the sidewall fell.
I asked the foremen,
“are these men skilled?
The kind you would hire,
if you had to build?”
He looked at me, and laughed,
Unskilled labor is all I need.
Why, they can wreck in a day or two,
What has taken builders years to do.”
I asked myself, as I went my way,
which of these roles have I tried to play?
Am I a builder with rule and square,
measuring and constructing with skill and care?
Or am I the wrecker, who runs the town,
content with the business of tearing down?