Nothing Is Given: We Must Find Our Law

    Nothing is given: we must find our law.
    Great buildings jostle in the sun for domination;
    Behind them stretch like sorry vegetation
    The low recessive houses of the poor.

    We have no destiny assigned us:
    Nothing is certain but the body; we plan
    To better ourselves; the hospitals alone remind us
    Of the equality of man.

    Children are really loved here, even by police:
    They speak of years before the big were lonely,
    And will be lost.

        And only
    The brass bands throbbing in the parks foretell
    Some future reign of happiness and peace.

    We learn to pity and rebel.