How could you do this to my soul, my heart,
And reject this poem, brimming with art?
I wrote it long ago when I was so young
And now it gushes, or is it too long?
This poem I reworked so many times!
As I sat myself down to start to revise
I worked so hard, and I did my best!
But I say uncle, I must acquiesce.
I hang down my head, again I begin,
I’ll revise as you wish and send out again.
By Joan E. Cashin