Lessons

Fränz Müller

At age eight, I learned about freedom;

age twelve, cruelty.

Age thirteen? Sorrow was my schoolmaster

and eighteen, fear.

Twenty-eight I learned to be hollow

a machine without a ghost;

at forty, a parasite fount its host.

Now, years later, I reflect on my education

and realize these things

taught me all the wrong lessons.

  • Author: Fränz Müller (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 20th, 2026 10:48
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 8
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    Indeed they are all part but none the whole of it all and many would say that any one by itself is not a good thing. It is its opposite that has more value

  • Doggerel Dave

    The culminative result, it seems, is insight.
    A confessional in good order.



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.