Though wisdom underfoot
Dies in the bloody fields,
Slowly the endless root
Gathers again and yields.
In fields where hate has hurled
Its force, where folly rots,
Wisdom shall be unfurled
Small as forget-me-nots.
The Fields
Witter Bynner
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Poem topics: hate, small, force, forget, endless, wisdom, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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