You can move a little mountain
Every day
Towards a cliff
You can strive
All the night
For your own swell doom
You can stick a fork
In the socket
Of your life’s great love
You can go about weeping
For only yourself
You can scheme to
Hate what has created you
And mar
Where you have been so carefully composed
You can build great temples
To your shortcoming
You can fail,
And how you willl—
But it will not be enough.