O Me! O Life! by Walt Whitman
O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithlessâ€”of cities fillâ€™d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more
Of eyes that vainly crave the lightâ€”of the objects meanâ€”of the struggle ever
Of the poor results of allâ€”of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the restâ€”with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurringâ€”What good amid these, O me, O life?
That you are hereâ€”that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.