At The Parade

I cannot flap a flag
  Or beat a drum;
Behind the mob I lag
  With larynx dumb;
Alas! I fear I'm not
  A Patriot.

With acrid eyes I see
  The soul of things;
And equal unto me
  Are cooks and kings;
I would not cross the street
  A duke to meet.

Oh curse me for a fool
  To be so proud;
To stand so still and cool
  Amid the crowd.
For President or Peer
  God, let me cheer!

But no, despite the glee
  My heart is cold;
I think that it may be
  Because I'm old;
I'm dumb where millions yell . . .
  Oh what the hell!

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"At The Parade" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 4 Jun 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/31992/at-the-parade>.

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