Richard Cory, Jr.
Whenever Richard Cory went downtown,
We people on the pavement stared at him,
An unattractive man from sole to crown,
Ill-favored, with gray eyes a little dim.
And he was always raggedly arrayed,
And he always stuttered when he talked.
So ladies looked away when Richard said,
“Good morning,” limping badly as he walked.
Richard failed at everything he tried,
Moving from job to job, his chances slim.
His mother was unwed... his dad a suicide,
Everything to make us glad we were not him.
Yet Richard Cory had a soul of joy,
For God had given him a heart of laughter,
And Richard Cory, one calm summer day,
Went home and lived happily ever after.