Mill-doors
Carl Sandburg
You never come back.
I say good-by when I see you going in the doors,
The hopeless open doors that call and wait
And take you then for—how many cents a day?
How many cents for the sleepy eyes and fingers?
I say good-by because I know they tap your wrists,
In the dark, in the silence, day by day,
And all the blood of you drop by drop,
And you are old before you are young.
You never come back.
Next 10 Poems
- Carl Sandburg : Momus
- Carl Sandburg : Monotone
- Carl Sandburg : Muckers
- Carl Sandburg : Murmurings In A Field Hospital
- Carl Sandburg : Nigger
- Carl Sandburg : Nocturne In A Deserted Brickyard
- Carl Sandburg : Noon Hour
- Carl Sandburg : Old Woman
- Carl Sandburg : On The Breakwater
- Carl Sandburg : On The Way
