http://youtu.be/unp2NQ7CaPQ

Poem:

Richard Cory
BY EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good-morning,” and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich—yes, richer than a king—
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Poem Response:

This was a mildly confusing poem. It wasn’t free verse it was a rhyme scheme but it was every other line and I think that is why its confusing. I think that Richard Cory was lonely and alienated from people. He might have had all the possessions in the world but that doesn’t mean he was happy. Money can’t buy happiness. I think this because throughout the poem it says he is rich but he ends up killing himself anyway for other reasons.