I wonder, when I see Fate juggle
My best efforts, why I struggle.
My plans,which taking pains has blended,
Don’t turn out as I intended.
A word, the smallest slip uncharted
Can spoil what hard endeavor started.
Destroying fortune, fame or rep
Requires no more than one false step.
The most successful day can sour
In its final quarter hour.
Yet come fire, flood or income tax,
He must fight on who can’t relax.
by Ray Romine Saturday, November 10, 1951
