Another Time

#listen-container { display: inline-block; padding: 9px 15px; background: #10578E; cursor: pointer; transition: all 0.3s ease; border: 1px solid #1791ef; border-bottom: 1px solid #156caf; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; } #listen-container:hover { background: #2f9cf1; } #listen-container a { color: #fff; } .listen-container-svg { fill: #fff; height: 20px; width: 22px; margin-right: 5px; } #text-player { margin-right: 0; display: inline-block; font-size: 16px; top: -3px; position: relative; float: none; font-family: "Roboto","sans-serif"; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 0.1em; } Listen to this Poem Your browser does not support the audio element. For us like any other fugitive, Like the numberless flowers that cannot number And all the beasts that need not remember, It is today in which we live. So many try to say Not Now, So many have forgotten how To say I Am, and would be Lost, if they could, in history. Bowing, for instance, with such old-world grace To a proper flag in a proper place, Muttering like ancients as they stump upstairs Of Mine and His or Ours and Theirs. Just as if time were what they used to will When it was gifted with possession still, Just as if they were wrong In no more wishing to belong. No wonder then so many die of grief, So many are so lonely as they die; No one has yet believed or liked a lie, Another time has other lives to live.