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Some cheered him home,
but not as crowds cheer Goal.
Only a solemn man who brought him fruits
Thanked him; and then inquired about his soul.
Now, he will spend a few sick years in institutes,
And do what things the rules consider wise,
And take whatever pity they may dole.
Tonight he noticed how the women's eyes
Passed from him to the strong men that were whole.
How cold and late it is! Why don't they come
And put him into bed? Why don't they come?
Neither you, nor the coeditors you shared it with will be able to recover it again.
The image of a section of the Anthem for Doomed Youth manuscript at the head of this page is reproduced with kind permission of the British Library.
This later turns out to be easier said than done however, as Sheers shows us that in our day to day lives, we are always playing roles in some sense.