Never and Ever and Not-Now

Poemata, XV

The saddest people I've ever seen
Hanging around outside, smoking--
Hanging around, what does it mean
Just hanging around and moping
When might be done such worthy deeds
In such time as this which needs
Greatness; as it is choking
Like a garden full of weeds;

I see in your eye what it means
To be unbeautiful, in a time
When but one sin it seems
Is unto death, and but one crime
Deserves death for a common man
To be plain; to never again
Be beautiful-- alone this line
Is drawn for us in the sand.

If riches could make the ugly young
If power could make of fools the wise
Some were never either one
Never either not once but twice;
Crooked faces like your own
Hearts not sad like yours have grown
But twisted every bit of thrice
About pale emptiness alone;

The tiny paper cigar, it's true
Will not make you live forever
They would take this too from you
They pilfered jams in Geneva;
But being beautiful as they became
Is for them the eternal flame
A worm that does not die, never
And ever, and not-now, just the same.