The Patriot

I go in the rain, and, more than needs,
A rope cuts both my wrists behind;
And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,
For they fling, whoever has a mind,
Stones at me for my year's misdeeds.

Thus I entered, and thus I go!
In triumphs, people have dropped down dead.
``Paid by the world, what dost thou owe
``Me?''---God might question; now instead,
'Tis God shall repay: I am safer so.

Some people take life in their stride. What lies in front of them is just an adversity just like the dried out cornflakes that have stuck on the cereal bowl.
The pavements outside the house were clear this morning as were most of the streets in town. The bit between them was something else. I am going to have to invest in some crampons to go with my wellies if this weather persists.