"Advice" by Ruth Stone

My hazard wouldn’t be yours, not ever; But every doom, like a hazelnut, comes down To its own worm. So I am rocking here Like any granny with her apron over her head Saying, lordy me. It’s my trouble. There’s nothing to be learned this way. If I heard a girl crying help I would go to save her; But you hardly ever hear those words. Dear children, you must try to say Something when you are in need. Don’t confuse hunger with greed; And don’t wait until you are dead.

—Ruth Stone, Topography and Other Poems