DEAR ABBY: First, I want to thank you for a column that benefits all ages, sexes and races.
Last year you printed Edgar Guest's poem titled "It Couldn't Be Done." Being an optimistic person, I want to share a poem I ran across. (The author is unknown.) I hope you enjoy it. -- LINDA SCHRADER, TAMPA, FLA.
IT CAN BE DONE
The man who misses all the fun,
Is he who says, "It can't be done."
In solemn pride he stands aloof,
And greets each venture with reproof.
Had he the power he'd efface,
The history of the human race.
We'd have no radio or motor cars,
No street lit by electric stars;
No telegraph nor telephone,
We'd linger in the age of stone.
The world would sleep if things were run,
By men who say, "It can't be done."