Robert Frost

I read the following poem by Robert Frost, and it may as well have been written about a client I saw yesterday.

In Neglect

“They leave us so to the way we took,
“As two in whom they were proved mistaken,
“That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook,
“With mischievous, vagrant, seraphic look,
“And try if we cannot feel forsaken.”

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