We came across this poem the other day while reading Patricia Highsmith's Strangers on a Train. We found it a wonderful elucidation of the absurd lifestyle - although, like all poetry, it is certainly open to multiple interpretations...
by Vachel Lindsay
Let not young souls be smothered out before
They do quaint deeds and fully flaunt their pride.
It is the world’s one crime its babes grow dull,
Its poor are oxlike, limp and leaden-eyed
Not that they starve, but starve so dreamlessly;
Not that they sow, but that they seldom reap;
Not that they serve, but have no gods to serve;
Not that they die, but that they die like sheep.